


Of Honor and Wyld

by Phigmentor



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Developing Friendships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Warrior Inquisitior (YEAH TWO HANDS WHAT!), Fluff and Smut, Full cast is here-- but focus is on a few, Romance, War, little bit of angst (but really only for seasoning), main plot line with some flavor (OK a lot of flavor)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 91,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phigmentor/pseuds/Phigmentor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows the story of Saliah Trevelyan, the somewhat feisty, always well-intentioned Female Inquisitor. Her world is upside down, along with everyone elses. She carries a maul that is almost comically too big for her.  She's too proper for commoners, too wild for nobility. Suddenly, she's some holy symbol for a god she's not sure she believes in.<br/>Maker's Breath-- what to do with Sal. </p><p>**Contains spoilers of the main plot line and the Cullen Romance**<br/>**Also helps if you know some of the background on Cullen from DA: O and DA 2**</p><p> </p><p>Note-- I was inspired by a bunch of really great stories on here, as well as the masterful storytelling of the team at Bioware. I found myself having a lot of the conversations that made their way in here in my head at first, as I filled in the gaps of my character while I was playing the game. It will be long. I hope you like it!</p><p>P.S.- I'm a terrible editor of my own work, and I write most of this late at night. Pray forgiveness for comma splices and the such.</p><p>**I'm trying to update as often as I can, but I think the update schedule will be a chapter a week, likely loaded on Sundays. Thanks for your patience!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- 9:27 Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prologue takes place 3 years before the 5th Blight, in the Free Marches of Thedas.  
> Aster Trevelyan loves her children more than anything. Their lives are about to get turned upside down.

“Ed, you’re going to have to work harder than that!” Giggled the sister, feinting to the left of her opponent’s incoming grapple attack. Grabbing his arm, she heaved him over her shoulder, dropping to her knee, throwing him to the ground. A resounding _thud_ gave her much satisfaction in her work. _Just like Gampa showed me—_ she thought, very pleased with herself.

“Sal,” he grunted as she released her grip on his wrist, “I’m just not as strong as you are.” Retorted the brother, rubbing his lower back, looking up into her green/grey eyes.

“C’mon you Nug, get up.” She offered her hand to her brother, who was squarely on his back. He took her hand, getting to his feet, and looked at his sister warily.

She shooed him back to his original position, near an ornate pillar that marked the trailhead of the path where they were practicing. _I really don’t want to get hit again. Why can’t I get this?!_ He scowled in frustration at his sister’s half dancing, half grappling, all strength ability.  

She gestured to him to begin. “Again! This time, look for the weakness!”

“What _is_ this blighted weakness I’m supposed to see!?”  
That question stopped the girl for a beat as she considered it. She could see his movements coming before she realized it; knowing from her core which way to go, what to do next. She wasn’t quite sure how to verbalize this knowledge.

“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” She mused. “Gampa just… I don’t know, showed me.” She smiled, realizing the current weakness. “You should have come at me just now, goof! Just now, as I was caught in thought. Maker, you’re slow.” She teased.

The brother smiled, took the opportunity to win this round mentally, “well, maybe you shouldn’t get deep in thought when you’re fighting! ‘Wouldn’t want you to hurt that pretty head of yours.” Laughing from the scowl on his sister’s face, he knew he had struck a chord. “Can’t I convince you to let me show you that trick I did with the roses that Gamma showed me?” He pleaded, the bruise forming in his back warning him that his sister would eventually win.

“Once you beat me.” She grinned.

“I just did!” He retorted. “And, I didn’t even have to lift a finger.” He stood back, folding his arms around his elbows, and wiggling his pinky to prove the point.

“Nuh-uh!” She said, sticking her tongue out at him.

 

Coming upon the wresting children, the mother surveyed her pair, playing in the warm sun of the Free Marches summer. Her daughter, a lithe and strong young lady of ten. Her son, a graceful and gentle young man of 13. Both truly beginning to come into their own.

The pair was utterly devoted to one another, in the most peculiar way. While most older brothers protected their baby sisters gruffly and with force, or ignored them altogether, these two were the opposite. Saliah, full of light and life, would sooner take down a mountain than see harm come to her brother. Edwin, quieter and softer, would be the calm of her storm, reminding her to think before she acted. They balanced one another perfectly, from the day Saliah came into the world. She had never seen a brother so devoted to teaching his baby sister, doting on her every whim, reeling her in when she would get too wild. She chuckled to herself as she remembered when Edwin was ten or so, he informed his mother to leave Saliah’s scolding to him, as she wasn’t going to listen to her anyway.

Equally, she never saw a baby so enrapt with her elder sibling, delighting in all that he taught her. Saliah’s balance to her brother was to push him to hurry up, be bolder, more brash.  They were two sides of the same coin, and that truth made Aster proud and happy.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think that they would turn out to be so like her tribe. Both with a shock of silvery white hair seemingly spun from silk, the eyes of storm clouds, and the gifts of her people’s mysteries. Her children lived to be out in the sun and in the elements, playing in the gardens and forests surrounding the family estate. Of course, they were attentive with their lessons, diligently learning their numbers and letters, as well as manners and etiquette. These were things required of the children and heirs of the Noble House of Trevelyan. However, They much preferred to be out in the air, with the grass beneath their feet, teetering at the edge of a stream, arguing over the best tactics to catch fish.

Coming back to the moment, Aster swelled with pride as her daughter put her son through the paces of the beginner warrior’s training they had learned from their Grandfather’s last visit. _Maker, guide them wisely—_ she mused as she approached them.

“Alright Saliah,” She said to the girl, “I think you’ve proven your point. Let Edwin have a turn and show you what he’s good at, now.”

Saliah relaxed her pose, “yes, Mama,” she sighed, clearly annoyed that she wouldn’t get to try again. “Did you see how I feinted and grappled? Just like Gampa showed me!”

“Yes, my darling girl.” Her mother said, ruffling the messy topknot that held her daughter’s hair.

“One day, I will walk as a warrior, yes?” Saliah asked, excited at the possibility walking proudly with her Grandfather’s great maul one day.

“If that is what the Maker’s wyld intends, Saliah, then yes: you will become a huntress and warrior of the Wyld.”

Turning to his mother, Edwin quietly walked towards them. “Mama?”

“Yes, my sweet boy.”

He paused, forming his question as he ran his fingers along the stone hedge of the walkway. He stopped, looking at her quietly with his storm cloud eyes. “Will I have to go to the circle because I’m good at what Gamma taught me?”

The question caught the Aster’s breath in her throat. Magic wasn’t the sin for her kind as it was in the rest of Thedas. Her mother, who would be labeled “apostate” if any one were to know of her, taught her that their magic was no sin. It was never corrupted by the taint of the Imperium. But here, in the Free Marches, magic was a sin for all intents and purposes. Its wielders: mages locked in prisons fashioned to look like towers of safety and protection. Their keepers: brutal, cruel men and women who would kill them under the guises of holy service and ‘magic exists to serve man.’ No, her son would go to no such place.

She leaned down to meet her son’s handsome face, which was so like his father’s. “If the Maker’s wyld intends it for you, Edwin, you will go and stay with your Gamma and the tribe. She can fully teach you the ways of Druids. That training exists nowhere else in Thedas, and certainly in no Circle Tower.”

“Why? Are the circles wrong?”

“No,” she chose her next words carefully, remembering every fight she and her husband have had over her opinions on Chantry’s magical traditions, “they…just don’t understand our magic.” She finished, hoping he wouldn’t push the issue further. His magic had just begun to manifest, and she was still reeling from the implications of it, here in her husband’s world.

The fights over Edwin’s future had begun between them a few weeks before, just before her parents’ arrived for their yearly visit. Arman, her husband, was of the world outside of the tribe, so of course he feared his son’s gifts. He believed that he should go to the circle at Ostwick at once, so that he could be controlled. Aster fought him viciously on the matter, reminding him that neither the Circle of Magi nor the Chantry would know what to do with Edwin’s gift, because her tribe’s magic wasn’t victim of the Tevinter influence. During her parents’ visit, he drunkedly blamed her “witch mother” for making the magic a possibility to his heir.  Aster’s husband nearly forbade the Druidess’ presence in his home any further. It had almost come to blows between Arman and her father, the chieftain of her tribe. She knew the outcome would be certain death for Arman. Her father’s gift from the tribe’s mystery was the strength of the land; a rare ability her daughter seemed to have inherited. She couldn’t fathom the fall-out from that, nor did she want to.  She told her parents to return to the tribe after the fight, promising to bring the children soon.  Returning to her husband after her parents’ departure, she quietly informed him that Edwin would go to no such place as that blasted circle, and that she would take him to the tribe if his powers should further develop. He acquiesced, citing that it was probably better that way.

Aster and her children turned and made their way to the rose gardens, near the patio on the east wing of their mansion. As they walked, Aster marveled at how her son would touch the plants, effortlessly making them more lush and green, just as her mother would. He would indeed make a fine Druid of the Arbor Wyld when he came of age. She chided herself slightly for the mild pang of envy she felt at her son’s gift. Aster could also work this magic, but hers never manifested to any significant point.  Aster was lucky if she could brighten a few leaves, let alone a hedge’s worth of rose bushes as her son had just done.

“Ed, that’s. . . that’s so beautiful.” Saliah said, in awe of her brother’s quiet power that was so unlike her own. Aster couldn’t help but be proud of her son, finally leveling his sister today. Her power made him unsteady at times. Growing up with stories of the proud, gallant knights of the Grey Wardens and other orders (including the Templar Order, she relented to herself), she knew that Edwin wished, at some level, he had a monocum of his sister’s forthcoming capacity with battle.  But, she also knew that her son was equally proud of Saliah’s strength. Aster considered Edwin’s power, which could eventually summon hurricanes and blizzards, if he should choose. She wondered, at that moment, which druidic path he would take when the time came.

“Thanks, Sal.” Ed replied. Ever the kind one, he picked his sister a jewel-like rose from the plant. Saliah, ever the wild one, danced around with it, twirling and leaping in front of the two of them making all the noise in the world as she danced. Aster wondered what weapon would be dedicated to her beautiful, rambunctious daughter when she was named huntress and warrior . . . and prayed that the training would help calm the earthquake that rattled within the child. Maker knew Aster would accept all the help she could get!

As they came to the center patio, they passed the estate’s main chapel of Andraste, Bride of the Maker.

“Mama?” Saliah looked to her mother after noticing the temple.

“Yes, dear.”  
“Is Andraste of the Maker’s wyld?”

“I don’t pretend to know the secrets of Andraste, child. Just know that she watches over us all.” She pulled her close to her, kissing the top of her silvered head, holding back tears of pride and joy at her two creations.

“Mama, there’s no need to cry,” said Edwin gently, seeing her mother’s glassy eyes.

“No, my sweet boy, there isn’t.” She pulled him in with her other arm. “I am just so proud of both of you. My beautiful, special pair.”

  

“Children!” Aster called out to the rose garden, “The Lady Maera is here for tea! Come say hello.”

“Yes, Mama!” The pair said in unison.

“They are inseparable.” She said to herself, smiling. Turning back to her guest, she motioned the servants to begin their work.

“Aster, I simply must tell you how beautiful your gardens are. Who do you have working the grounds?” Asked her guest, Lady Maera of House Brallia, an insufferable gossip of a noblewoman. Sadly, her guest was of the sorts who you kept closer than your friends, for fear her gossip mongering would be aimed at you.

“It is simply luck, Maera. The Maker has blessed us with good soil and sun.”

“Indeed! You know, at Ostwick Circle, where my brother is Knight Commander,” the woman preened, dropping her brother’s rank with the Order (as she always did), “they also have lovely gardens, kept by the circle’s Tranquil. You really should come and see them with me the next time I go to visit him. The circle is actually not far from here, a few hours at most. It would be a wonderful afternoon trip. You must join me!” she pressed, eager to show anyone and everyone her brother’s work.

Aster’s cup shook slightly as she put it back on its plate, quietly wishing to be nowhere near that fade-forsaken prison. Gathering herself, she replied “thank you Maera, I will be sure to let you know when I can get away for a jaunt.”

Catching the minor feaux-pas, Maera laughed at Aster’s nervousness, “Dear woman, I wasn’t suggesting you _join_ the circle! Maker’s breath,” she eyed Aster playfully, “are you an apostate in hiding?” She guffawed, tickled with her joke.

Aster forced a polite chuckle in response. “Why no, Maera, it’s just that the stories of your brother’s gallantry set me a flutter, I must confess.” They chatted a bit longer—or, more likely—Aster nodded politely as Maera hurried on, telling her of the latest gossip from Orlais. _Maker give me strength_ , she thought as the woman prattled on.

As her children approached, Aster looked on, first in delight of her two. Her face fell quickly, changing to abject horror as her son. . . her sweet and gentle boy absent mindedly worked his gift over one of the Hydrangea bushes, sweeping his hand over its canopy. Aster quickly looked at her guest, to see if Maera had noticed. Her blanched expression, hand over her throat gave Aster the answer. Before Aster could think of something to explain the magic away, Maera hastily stood up, thanked her host and hurried out, mumbling an excuse of a forgotten appointment.

“Where is Lady Maera?” Saliah asked as they came up the stairs to the patio, bright and innocent.

“Children, we have to make ready to travel.” Aster said quickly, watching the woman leave.

“But, why?” Saliah pressed.

“Because, Saliah,” Edwin said quietly, looking at his mother’s face, realizing his mistake “Lady Maera has gone to tell her brother about me.”

 

Saliah tried to hurry and pack her things as her mother instructed.  All she was told was that they were leaving, and she wasn’t really sure why. She heard her mother run and tell her father of “what Maera saw.” She heard her father tell her mother to calm down, that he would work it out with the Knight Commander, but that yes, in the meantime perhaps it “was prudent for the children to visit their grandparents… and time that they saw the tribe.” Her mother, not calming down, said that she would be going with them, and would be back when she could. She had to get word to her mother that they were coming. And, that no, he couldn’t come; he wasn’t of the tribe. A comment, Saliah knew, her father hated to hear and was the sore spot of her parents’ life together. She hated when they fought, which seemed to be a lot, lately. But, Papa just didn’t understand Mama’s family. He was probably just jealous, too—Gamma and Gampa were much more fun than Grandmama and Grandpapa. Grandmama always made her have tea with noble girls her age. Boring girls who wanted to giggle and gossip and pleat each other’s hair. She much preferred playing with Ed outside, fighting pretend dragons that transformed from the ancient trees in the woods. Ed always played the mage, pretending to lob powerful spells at the monster, while Saliah expertly put the beast down using her great maul that she had fashioned from a tree branch and a stone she had found. _That_ was much more fun than some boring tea party. 

As she was telling her maid to take her bag downstairs, Saliah went to check on her brother.  She hung through the doorway to his room as she always did, and found him sitting on his bed; his bag neatly packed in the corner. Edwin was as still as stone on his bed. He clutched the Elfroot plant that Gamma had given him to his chest, as he stared out the window.

“Ed?” She asked, approaching him quietly. “Are you ready?” She knew something was wrong with him.

“Sal, the Templars are coming for me.”

“What? No! Mama and Papa just agreed that we are going to see Gamma and Gampa. That’s the hurry, silly.” She said, coming around to face him. She was shocked to see his face was tear-stricken, his nose runny, his eyes full of a fear she didn’t understand.

“Saliah,” he choked, “I’m have magic! They’re coming to take me away!” He sobbed. “They’re going to take me to the Circle and . . . and . . . I won’t ever see you, or Mama, or Papa, or Gamma or Gampa again!” He finished his sentence half speaking, half wailing. Tears spilling down his cheeks in full swing.

She jumped on the bed and wrapped her arms around her brother, holding him with all her might.

“No, they’re not! Stop being a baby.” She tried to comfort him, not understanding why he was so frightened. Templars would never come to take him! Our magic is different. Gamma said so.

“Yes, they—“ Edwin didn’t finish his sentence. Dumbstruck, his eyes widened at the sight outside the window.

Turning around, Saliah saw what stopped him. There, approaching their home from the road were six Templars on horseback, leading a coach driven by two more. Their armor emblazoned with the Order’s heraldry. Suddenly in a dead calm, she leaped into an action she knew was right from her core. She grabbed her brother’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes, steeling her gaze. “Get quiet, and hide.” She quietly commanded. He looked at her, steadying himself in her gaze, and nodded. He wiped his nose as she turned and ran out of the room.

“MAMAAAAAAAAA” She shouted as she ran down the hall to her parents’ suite. Bursting through the door, she found her Mother, hurriedly finishing her bag.

Looking up, her mother looked at her in exasperation, “Saliah, I told you to finish—“

“MAMA! TEMPLARS! THEY’RE COMING!” Saliah cut her mother off, pointing out the window at the invaders.

“Maker preserve us.” Her mother responded, looking to where Saliah was pointing. “ARMAN! THEY’RE HERE!” She called to the other room of her suite. Looking back at Saliah, her mother ran to her. “Hide your brother. Protect him. Hide yourself with him.”  
“But Mama, I--” Saliah started.

Her mother stopped her with an index finger to Saliah’s lips; a gesture that Saliah knew stopped all discussion. “Go.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Running back to Ed’s room, she didn’t see Ed. In his place by the bed, she saw a huge ball of . . . Elfroot? “Ed? ED WHERE ARE YOU!!” She panicked, looking around the room.

“I’m in here, Sal. I’m not really sure how this happened.” She heard a muffled voice from the plant ball.

“Ed you have to get out of there! I told you to hide! That’s not a good hiding spot!”

“I can’t get out! It just happened!” He said in a panic.

“Maker’s bowels.” She hissed. “Can you breathe in there?” She ran over to the snarl of vines.  
“Yes, thank Andraste.” Ed said back to her.  
 _“_ Alright, good. Stay there. _” Think, Saliah. Think._ She eyed the bedding, and threw it over the vine ball and closed the door to his room. Tying her silvery-white hair into a topknot, she braced herself against the door. _They will not have my brother_ , she promised to herself and to Ed.

Through the door, she heard the group in the vestibule of the building. Muffled sounds that seemed to be her father speaking with whomever was in charge, and her mother pleading with them. “This is a misunderstanding.” She heard her mother say through the door, trying to feign calm incredulity. Saliah could hear her panicked undertones; she knew when her mother was faking. _Why do they sound so close?_ She wondered.

To her surprise, the door moved sharply. She braced herself to keep it closed, her pulse rising. She could hear her blood beat in her ears.  The door pushed harder, and as Saliah adjusted her foot to keep her brace intact, the door exploded open. Thrown back, but not falling, Saliah quickly gathered herself, screamed, and bull-rushed the body back, not looking up to see whom it was. The Templar flew into to the wall opposite the door, crashing down with a grunt. Saliah moved like a flash of light and grabbed the doorframe and put her feet in the corners, staging her defense. “YOU WILL NOT HAVE MY BROTHER!” The young girl roared at the dumbfounded Templar trio still standing in the hallway, staring incredulously at this child who was in their way.

After a beat, the trio lunged at her. Holding herself in the door, she kicked one in their helmed face, leveraging her balance in the frame, sending him crashing across the hallway into the wall. Another received her shin in their groin, crumpling him to the ground, crying out in pain. She found herself feeding off the pain she clearly caused them. Panting, half exerted, but pulsing with a primal fury, she screamed at them incoherently. The third caught her torso as she kicked and screamed, trying to pull her from the frame.

“I need some help here!” She heard a surprised voice say, muffled by their helm. The first Templar, and the one who received a foot to his face, quickly stood and engaged in the unusual tug-of-war. Finally, they pulled her out and their path to Ed was clear.  She writhed and fought to get out of their grasp, trying to throw her weight around to unbalance them, but she was weakened and spent. They each had their arms gripped around her, keeping her perpendicular to the marble floor. A new Templar went in and looked for Ed, making straight for the pile of bedding between his bed and the window.

“He’s not in there, you ass!” Her feeble lie clearly not believed. The Templar pulled the bedding from the ground, revealing her brother’s cocoon.

“Commander,” the Templar called out of the room, “he’s in here.”

The Knight Commander emerged from the staircase, helmless. He was a tall man, gray-haired, slowly walking with the swagger of a well-trained warrior. Despite his creases and fearsome stature, she saw a pair of blue eyes that were clearly remorseful about the task at hand. The Sin of House Trevelyan was to be collected.

“Gentlemen,” he said at the trio, “put the girl down; we are not here for her.”

“Ser! It took three of us to pull her out of the door frame, Ser.” One of the Templars said as he motioned his head between the doorframe and the struggling, raging child. It was then that Saliah realized that she had taken chunks of it with her, when they pulled her out. She slammed the chunks at the helm of the Templar who was closest to her head. The commotion gave her the weakness she sought. She forced her weight down and pulled herself out of their grasp. Upon landing, she rolled back to her feet and made for the discovering Templar near her brother, screaming as she approached.

The Knight Commander, who grabbed her and in one motion picked her up, gently hoisting her over his shoulder, abruptly stopped her approach. “Calm down child, no harm is coming to your brother. We must take him for his and your protection.” He said softly, in an attempt to calm her down.

“PROTECT THIS!” She roared, her small feet kicking into his nose. She heard a satisfying snap as his nose broke. She began to rail again, trying to force her weight around as she had before.

While taken aback in the surprise, the veteran did not fall and held onto her. “MAKERS BREATH—WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, CHILD!” He roared back at her, all at once swinging her around and holding her against the floor, pinning her arms and legs behind her. Saliah could tell that his nose was bleeding badly; it was falling on her cheek. Good.

She also knew that she was had. He won.

They had her brother.

“Sweet Mother of Andraste, Steren Brallia, unhand my daughter this instant!” Aster shouted, rushing down the hall. The scene was unreal to her: her daughter, panting heavily, chest down, fully pinned beneath the weight of the Knight Commander of the Circle at Ostwick. His nose was broken, badly. He was bleeding all over Saliah’s face. _Maker, make that be only his blood or I will end him—_ she thought. One Templar was on the floor, rolling on his back, covering his groin and weeping behind his helm. Another had a considerable dent in his breastplate, and yet one more was helmless, holding it in his hand and trying to work the dent out of it.

“What is the meaning of this?!” She demanded, although she knew the answer already. Her daughter had done as she was told. Aster immediately chided herself for putting Saliah in this position. She needed to see what they said. She wouldn’t forgive herself if this would cause her daughter harm.

“This . . .beast of a child took one of my men down, and kicked me in the nose.” Knight Commander Steren growled as he released her, blood gushing from his nose. “Tell me, is she magic as well?” He demanded, his eyes flashing to Aster’s, as Saliah ran to her mother.

“Maker, no.” Aster said, as she inspected her daughter for any injuries, wiping the blood from her face as best she could. “No, she’s not. She’s spirited and terrified of loosing her brother, Steren.” After being satisfied that Saliah was fine for the most part, she scooped up her daughter who had begun wailing and crying uncontrollably, hoarsely mumbling something about failing her brother. Trying to comfort her child, and fighting her own heartbreak, Aster focused her pain into maternal rage. Flashing her eyes back at him, “This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled a child from their unwilling families. I’m sure you understand, Knight Commander.”

“I . . . no, it isn’t.” He said, agreeing with her. “But, it is a first that it takes three of my men to control a 10 year old girl.” He narrowed his gaze at her daughter’s back.

“Perhaps, Commander, you should stop coddling your nieces and nephews when they join as recruits.” She retorted, making her threats the way nobles would. “It would be so unfortunate if you were to be . . . found wanting in your command. Certainly three men being taken down by a child during a simple collection mission from a nobleman’s home should be cause for an investigation on your ability to train and lead.” She leveled her verbal sword.

“I see your point, Lady Aster.” He relented to her. Turning stiffly to his men he shouted “take the boy, gently. I’ve already had my nose broken.”

Seeing her son be escorted towards the door with the bag he had packed to go to her tribe nearly broke Aster. As soon as Edwin saw her, he ran to her, crying all over again.

“I’m sorry, Mama! This is my fault for the stupid Hydrangea!” He wailed, reaching for her.

She quickly put Saliah down and crouched in front of her son. “Edwin, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She said soothingly, their faces close together. She snatched him to her, holding him tight. Looking over his shoulder, at the victims of her daughter’s handy-work, she hissed “he’s clearly going with you, Steren, may I have a moment to privately say good-bye to my eldest son?” She was thankful when Knight Commander Steren waved his men away, and took his leave down the stairs. She was equally weary that he never broke her gaze until he was below the level of her floor.

Once they were out of earshot, she pulled him back from her, looking deep into his blood-shot eyes, full of a pain and hopelessness that would be the end of her if she weren’t careful. “Now, quickly my darling. You will not understand this now, but listen. Remember that you do not need lyrium, ever. Do not touch that poison. Remember that the fiends in the fade cannot manipulate you. Druids of our tribe can choose to let a spirit in; they cannot force themselves on us. Remember that the spirits in the fade can be your friend; if you let them be of their nature, they will guide you. Remember that you are of the Storm and of the Land.” She held his gaze as she hurried through what she believed to be the most important things until he nodded, clearly confused. “Remember what I am saying to you. Never forget.” She snatched him back to her bosom and hugged him deeply, with everything that she had in her. Fighting back the tears of utter sadness. “And most of all, Edwin. Remember that I love you with my everything.” Her last words caught in her throat. Edwin heard it and began weeping silently into her shoulder.

“Now,” she sniffed, pulling him back and wiping his tears, “say good-bye to your sister.” She released him from her arms. She realized at that moment it would be the last time she held her son. The realization nearly broke her, but she was steadfast in trying to keep her composure. For Saliah’s sake, to spite those men taking her son, for the name of her husband’s line, _I cannot break until they leave._

Watching her children wail and cry, blubbering apologies of failure and promises to write every day, twice a day, was surprisingly easier than she thought it would be.  _Perhaps, one day, my pair will be together again. Mages often break out of their circles. He would go to my people and those beasts in the Order would never find him. Andraste, please keep my son in your sights and in your mercy. Maker, I beg you to keep him safe._ She quietly prayed as she watched her children’s’ hearts break. She let them hold and hug each other for a time, Edwin repeatedly kissing his sister on the top of her head.

Once she saw Commander Steren’s head break the horizon of the banister, she knew there was no more delay. “Saliah,” Aster said gently, petting her hair. She knew that it would have to be her daughter to break the embrace, especially now. “Edwin has to go.”

“NO!” Saliah wailed savagely, tightening her grip on her hug and burying her face in her brother’s chest.

“Saliah,” Edwin said gently, whispering into Saliah’s ear “you have to, or they will see your strength and take you, too. I need you to watch over Mama and Papa. Yes?”

“Nooooo,” was her muffled response from her brother’s chest, pushing herself closer with her brother and stamping her feet, making her topknot bounce. Aster could feel the vibrations slightly. _Thank Andraste that she’s weakened._

“Sal…” Edwin warned gently.  He always knew how to get her daughter to comply. _Maker, what will I do without the calm to her storm._

Saliah released her brother, scrambling up into her mother’s arms, buring her head in her neck. Aster heard something about not telling her she’s too big to be held being muttered from there. In response, she just adjusted her gangly, strong girl to her hip.

Leading her son down the stairs, she found her husband and the Knight Commander speaking quietly, by the main door.

“Go on ahead, Edwin.” Aster instructed her son out the door, nearing her last vestiges of emotional control. Walking over to the pair of men, she shot her husband a quizzical look “Darling, what are the two of you discussing?”

“I was just telling Arman,” the Commander cut in, before her husband could speak, “that perhaps it would be wise that Edwin go to a stricter circle than what we can offer him at Ostwick. What, with my ranks clearly lacking in training and discipline…” he trailed off, leveling his verbal sword at her. “Yes, I think that is for the best.” Knight Commander Steren continued, easily keeping Aster’s horrified gaze. “I believe there is a very good, strict Circle on the shores of Lake Calenhad, in Ferelden. I think a circle like that would do him quite well and keep him well protected. They have a very wise First Enchanter, and a strong Knight Commander. I do want what’s best for the Noble House of Trevelyan, of course.”

“Of…course…”Aster replied, venom hanging on every word. “Thank you for your kind vigilance, Knight Commander.” He had her, and she knew it. She had no power to dictate where her son was sent, if it was outside the Free Marches. So, her son would reside in Ferelden. So be it. _At least we know where, so my children can correspond._

“My pleasure, Lady Aster. I believe we’ve taken enough of your time today. I will take my leave. However, please keep in mind that I will be discussing the matter of your daughter’s… unusual prowess with the First Enchanter at Ostwick. He may want to examine her to make sure she isn’t manifesting. I will send word once I’ve heard his counsel on the matter.” He put his helm on his head (careful to avoid his nose), stepped out to his horse in the courtyard, and mounted it. He gave the command to the coach drivers to move out. He turned, gave her weathered family an official salute and rode off.

Edwin looked back at them, bravely trying to smile and offered a single wave from the coach’s back window. Aster hushed and cooed Saliah as her son’s final farewell motion further destroyed her daughter.

Once the coach and its company were over the horizon, Aster followed Arman inside, still holding Saliah in her arms. After the door clicked shut, Arman turned and wrapped his arms around Aster and their daughter. The trio stayed there sometime, in total silence.

“Get our daughter out now, before they return for her.” Arman whispered in her ear, breaking the silence. “I sent word to the tribe, when I realized she was fighting them off. Come back when you can.”


	2. The Dog Days are Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Commander: update from the breach.” The scout announced his arrival to Commander Cullen. Taking the rolled parchment from the scout, he reviewed the information.  
> “Sergeant,” Cullen called over his shoulder, summoning his officer “take one platoon and follow this scout back to Sister Leliana. And make haste.”  
> “Yes, Commander.”  
> At least the rift behind us is closed, he thought as he turned back to the bevy of troops and medics seeking his attention.  
> “Commander!” a familiar voice called out over the din of clinking armor and shuffling feet. Turning to follow the source, he saw the small band approaching. Leading them was Seeker Cassandra, a tall and fiercely beautiful woman. She followed by the apostate Solas, Varric and his crossbow, and a new face he hadn’t seen, but immediately knew who it was. They only referred to her as “the prisoner.” Solas had convinced Leliana and the Seeker that the prisoner was key to closing the rifts that had appeared after the explosion.

“Commander: update from the breach.” The scout announced his arrival to Commander Cullen. Taking the rolled parchment from the scout, he reviewed the information.

“Sergeant,” Cullen called over his shoulder, summoning his officer “take one platoon and follow this scout back to Sister Leliana. And make haste.”

“Yes, Commander.” 

 _At least the rift behind us is closed,_ he thought as he turned back to the bevy of troops and medics seeking his attention.

“Commander!” a familiar voice called out over the din of clinking armor and shuffling feet. Turning to follow the source, he saw the small band approaching. Leading them was Seeker Cassandra, a tall and fiercely beautiful woman. She followed by the apostate Solas, Varric and his crossbow, and a new face he hadn’t seen, but immediately knew who it was. They only referred to her as “the prisoner.” Solas had convinced Leliana and the Seeker that the prisoner was key to closing the rifts that had appeared after the explosion.

She approached; an enormous, almost comically large maul slung across the top of her shoulders and behind her neck. Both of her arms wrapped around it and held it in place. Her marked hand’s palm was glowing that sickly fade green, facing away from him. _So that’s the mark_ , Cullen realized. She clinked on, a chained meat hook looped to her hip.

She followed in the back, quietly walking and surveying the scene in front and around her. It was equal parts a dumfounded look of disbelief and that of a trained tactician surveying the battlefield. She was lean like Cassandra. Even at her slower pace, she walked with a confidence found in warriors. It was clear that the maul did not impede her movements in the least. But, she was softer somehow. Not as hardened as his colleague. A messy topknot of white hair crowned her head.

“Lady Cassandra, you’ve managed to close the rift.” He began, approaching the quartet. “Well done.”

Cassandra let out a sharp sigh, “do not congratulate me, Commander.” Cassandra responded. She motioned behind her to the approaching stranger, “this is the prisoner’s doing.”

“My name is Saliah…” She muttered as she approached, clearly exasperated that Cassandra kept calling her otherwise.

“Is it?” Cullen responded. Now that she was closer, he could survey her face more closely. Pale, but healthy. Her cheeks were flushed from recent battle. She had a hairline scar that stretched vertically from just above her left eyebrow down to her cheekbone, bridging her left eye. She also had a faint tattoo under her right eye that followed the shape and curve of it. She was beautiful; he couldn’t deny that. But there, in her storm gray/green eyes, there was familiarity as well. One he couldn’t quite place. “I hope they’re right about you,” he continued, keeping his voice in command. “We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” There was a tinge of annoyance and resentment hanging in his last words.

“You’re not the only one hoping that.” Saliah responded, swinging her maul one-handed and putting the head onto the ground, the maul’s _thud_ accenting her statement. Her alto voice was surprisingly soft. It was strong as well, determined.

“We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?” Cullen stated flatly, closing the gap between them. Facing Cassandra, he continued. “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

“Then we’d best move quickly.” Cassandra announced to her troop. “Give us time, Commander.” She said, looking back to the Commander.

Holding the quartet in his sights for a beat, he gave them a benediction of the Maker’s care. “For all our sakes.” He finished.

“Soldiers!” He turned to the troops, “be ready to move back the wounded!” As he left them, he helped one of the wounded up, bracing them against his shoulder. They walked away together.

Saliah watched him leave, quietly commending his devotion to the wounded man. She turned, hoisted her maul over her shoulder, and followed her captors to the next front.

 

“They have decided your guilt” Saliah remembered the sting in the Seeker’s words as she dragged her out of the stalks. “They need it…” she said, pushing Saliah through Haven’s cold, clear night. She remembered a blur of faces, many different faces. All haunted with the same look of confusion, hatred, and fear.  He heart ached for them, as much as her arm and hand stung and jolted at the strange mark embedded in her palm. “It is killing you.” She remembered the Seeker’s words hollowly.

Her memory was broken when a fresh wash of pain and convulsion hit her, emanating from the mark. She crumpled, dropping her maul and screaming while holding her wrist. The elf mage, Solas, was first to her side to help her up. “Keep moving,” he said quietly “we are almost there.” Saliah looked up at the mage. His face was completely calm and unemotional. Helping her up, they continued ahead to the forward camp.

“Thank you, Solas.” She said

“You’re welcome, Saliah.” He replied, using her name.

Saliah smiled for his small action of kindness.

When the pain subdued, she continued the trek, her mind wandering back to the events of the last week. Sent by her father to the conclave, her only intent was to observe, go home, and tell her parents the results.  Based on the outcome, they would decide whether or not to arm their men to prepare for the fallout from the war between the Mages and the Templars, which was beginning to get dangerously close to their borders. Walking into this debacle, her only interest was to protect her family’s interests.

Saliah had trouble accepting that, in less than a few days, the Divine was dead and the Chantry’s leadership was obliterated. Now she was somehow to blame, and there was an ominous hole in the sky. The “Breach,” caused by whatever explosion killed all those people had branded her with this mark. And now, that same mark was slowly killing her. Not to mention that, in the last two hours, she had fought and felled more demons than she had ever seen in her life.

 _How did everything get so weird so quickly?_ She wondered to herself. _First things first, Saliah: close this Breach and keep it from killing you and everyone around you._ She put herself to task. _Then work on proving your innocence. Then, get home… Maker! I have to get word to my parents that I’m alive._ She blew out the air in her lungs, setting her resolve. _I am of the Storm and of the Land. I am of the Storm and of the Land…_ she chanted her tribe’s mantra to herself as she continued on.

Meeting up with the Seeker as they approached the next ridge, she stopped her.

“Seeker…Cassandra, isn’t it?” Saliah asked the woman.

“Yes. What do you want?” The Seeker replied, resuming movement.

“Well, I wonder… I wondered if you could do me a favor.” Saliah asked her, realizing how bold her request was, given everything that had transpired.

“You? A favor?” The Seeker rounded on her. “Do not mistake my defense of you to Chancellor Roderick at the front camp as anything other than a means to an end, Prisoner.” She said, slowly through clenched teeth, emphasizing Saliah’s new title.

“And I don’t, believe me. It’s just…” Saliah hesitated. “I wondered if someone in your organization could get word to my parents after all of this. Let them know that I’m …what happened.” She finished her request, realizing that she might not live to see tomorrow.

The Seeker softened just a bit, realizing the request. “Yes, I can see to that. To whom should we send it?”

“To Arman and Aster of the House Trevelyan, in the Free Marches. I am their daughter, you see.”

“Ah… I do see.” Cassandra replied, realizing that this woman was titled. “I will be sure to relay the events of the last few days to them, Lady Saliah. If you are indeed of that house.”

“Thank you, Seeker.”

The Seeker looked at her for a moment, sizing her up. Then, she turned her back and continued leading them to the Breach. “We’re almost to it!” She called out over her shoulder.

 

Up close, the Breach was much more odd than she thought it would be. Surely it was terrifying, but equally strange. It was as much a hole as it was a protrusion from the sky. Somewhere between a pitted scar and a wart, pulsing from the skin of this reality. It bled a strange gas and belched pieces of itself into a pit below, as they got closer. As they neared it, Saliah felt her mark begin to hum as it had when they approached the smaller “rifts” before. But this time, the humming was audible. It was a droning, deep, primal hum that reverberated throughout her being.

Hearing the shouts and screams of battle below, Saliah broke into an all-out run to the front of the line and readied her maul for the onslaught. Somewhere around her, she heard the Seeker and another woman give orders to the troops. She sensed the elf and the dwarf near her. Seeing the demons ahead, her warrior self took over.

“Varric, cover me!” She commanded, her voice loud and sure, forgetting that he owed her nothing.

“You got it, Beautiful!” She heard the gravelly shout behind her. It was quickly followed with the thrum of the crossbow and cries of praise for his instrument.

“Solas, help me close that hole!” She called to the elf.

“Clear out the demons below while I cover you, and we will do as we did before.”

She nodded in reply, only looking forward to her prey.  She heard the Seeker from somewhere in the background, but didn’t care. Her work was ahead of her.

Throwing her hooked chain out, she caught her prey and yanked it back to her, away from an injured soldier. The demon was a tall and strange. A cloaked figure, with a webbed spine. She let go of her chain and, in one motion, grabbed her maul and flattened the beast, pitting it into the ground. When it stood up, she roared her battle cry and continued to pummel it.

Once it was dead, she looked to see two more coming at her, fast. Dropping her maul to the pommel, she swung herself around several times quickly, using herself as the fulcrum. The mauled whirlwind caught both of the creatures in the face. The first’s head was bashed away completely, killing it. The other was stunned, a few feet from her. Dropping the maul’s head to the ground, she jumped, leveraged her balance against its heft, and planted both feet into the creature’s sternum. The bone cracks as she landed it and herself to the ground satisfied her that it was dead. She looked around again, panting, eager, ready and wanting more for her blood lust.

Just then, a fearsome creature—made seemingly of pure fire—caught her in the back, setting her armor ablaze. She screamed, pain pushing her consciousness further into focus. She rounded on the horror, pummeling it in a criss-cross fashion with the maul. “DIE!” She roared. The demon lasted about 10 seconds before it dissipated into a puddle of ooze. Standing over it, Saliah continued to rage, tightening her grip on her giant hammer. Her incoherent screams and roars challenged the rest of the demons to meet her.  Many did, as Cassandra ran to her, creating a front of two.

“You’re insane! Fall back before you kill yourself!” The Seeker commanded.

“No.” Saliah growled her reply, a barbaric grin on her face and pure storm in her eyes.

Just then, the demons were all struck down by energy from the hole. The Breach then belched a huge meteor. It landed 20 feet in front of the women, shaking the ground. It began to transform into something huge. Saliah’s eyes widened, not knowing what to expect. She looked around her quickly, realizing that the whole group was frozen in fear.

“Arrows! Ready your volley at whatever becomes its head! Fire at will when it solidifies!” She called out to the archers, motioning up with her hand. She neither worried or cared that these weren’t her men, she wasn’t going to let them all die of blinding fear. They snapped into action, readying their aim.

“You!” She shouted, pointing to a group of soldiers, “be ready to focus attacks to its right side, however it manifests!” They followed her command, readying them selves. Their eyes all shared a look of utter horror at what was coming.

“Varric, keep covering us! Solas, fire everything you have in that staff of yours at whatever it is!” Looking back at the elf, “don’t worry about helping me close the hole. Focus on that demon.”

“Seeker Cassandra,” She said quietly with force to the woman next to her, “you and I will take the monster’s left. Let’s offer the flank to each other at all times.” The tone was not an invitation. Cassandra looked at her for a split second, and then slowly nodded, looking ahead while readying her bastard sword and shield.

“It is a Pride Demon!” Solas called out as the form solidified. The creature was nightmare in flesh. Monolithic, covered in rock-like spiked skin. It’s eyes nothing but purple swirling electricity. Only worse than its visage was its horrid, deep, terrifying laugh. “You will die, now.” It chuckled, snapping a giant whip of lightning.

Saliah and Cassandra screamed in unison, leading the charge to the monster.

The song of battle was in full effect: the thrum of arrows, the clangs and crunches of swords. The sick, hollow thud of those falling to the creature. Saliah focused everything she had on hitting it fast and hard. Looking across the demon’s leg she saw Cassandra directly ahead, fighting with a grace and fury that she recognized all too well. Saliah turned back to its outer shin.

All at once, the fighting stopped. The demon seemed to have been weakened and was staggering onto its knees. Seizing the opportunity, Cassandra ran, dropped to her hip and slid right under its head. With a wild cry, she drove her bastard sword up through the creature’s chin, burying it to the hilt.

“SALIAH! NOW!” Shouted Solas.

Snapped to the moment, Saliah felt the hum of the mark again, looking at her palm. Backing up from the dead thing, she looked up into the Breach. Unknown instincts taking over, she shoved her hand up to it, putting all of herself into the brand. She convulsed when the energy came from her and shot up. All she felt was energy: raw, hot, cold, buzzing energy. It pulsed through her again and again, pumping up into the thing in the sky. Strangely, there was no pain. Only energy. Then, it stopped.

The last thing she saw as she collapsed was the Breach’s green light. Still there, despite her best attempt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at writing battle scenes. I also wanted to explore Saliah's evolution from her training with her tribe, and how the non-active powers the game has would manifest.


	3. Knock, Knock, Knocking on Haven's Door

_The hum of battle was in her ears, men and women dying around her. She looked up from the demon she pounded into to ground, only to find one tearing a soldier’s neck out. A fountain of blood arching from the boy as it threw its head back, the boy's windpipe and ripped muscles now part of his silhouette. Without hesitation for safety she runs to the monster, reading her hammer. The creature opens its mouth, lunging for her face._

Saliah eyes flew open, sucking in her breath. _A dream,_ she comforted herself. Realizing the rough, wooden ceiling beams over her, she slowly sat up to survey her new surroundings.

The sound of a crash snapped her head around. She reached blindly for her maul, only to find a startled elf near her bed.

“I… I… I’m sorry to disturb you, my lady.” The girl stuttered, all at once falling to her knees. Her forehead was inches from the ground, groveling deeply. “I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant.”

“It’s alright.” Saliah replied softly, cocking her eyebrow in disbelief. “What’s your name?”

“A-a-ana, m’ lady.” The elf replied. Without cue, Ana launched into a hurried speech about Saliah being back in Haven, out for three days, her actions saving the town. Ana went on and on about the people saying Saliah had saved them. “The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand.”

Saliah looked down at her hand, the faint glow of the mark still there. While it made its presence known, it wasn’t painful anymore.

“It’s all anyone is talking about.” The elf continued, staring at the glowing palm.

“So, the danger is over?” Saliah asked, still looking at her hand.

“The Breach is still there, but that’s what they say.” Ana replied, standing up and backing way towards the cabin’s entrance. Before Saliah could reply, the elf hurried out of the cabin, saying that she should fetch lady Cassandra at once.

 _Oh, this ought to be good._ She thought, thinking of her captor. Saliah got out of the bed and walked around the small cabin to inspect her surroundings. It was small, with plain wood walls and humble decorations. But it was tidy, and she was very thankful for the active fire in its hearth. She stood with her eyes closed and her back to it, soaking in the heat against her body. She was mildly surprised how not sore she was from battle. Opening her eyes, she saw the pile of things poor Ana dropped when she frightened the elf. _Poor girl. She seemed just as afraid of me as she is of the Breach!_ Saliah smiled, remembering the exchange…then her smile faded.

“What did she mean, begging for ‘my blessing’ I wonder?” She said to herself, her back getting uncomfortably hot from the fire.

She squatted down and picked up the pile of things dropped by the elf. She realized then that she was in a simple white cotton nightgown. _Well, at least they mean me no immediate harm,_ she thought, hoping that these people did not, in fact, mean her harm and that this was their way of saying so.

Looking around, she saw her armor on a stand nearby, her maul leaning on the wall, in its scabbard brace. Looking back to her hands, she held up the woolen tunic. It was clearly made for function over fashion, dyed a drab gray color with a nugskin collar. Looking down at the pile, she eyed breeches of the same fabric and snow boots, along with small clothes. Taking advantage of the assumed peace offering, she quickly got dressed.

 

The door knocked as she was lacing up her last boot. Startled, she stiffened.

“Yes?” She asked.

“My lady, may I come in?” Cassandra’s distinct accent was on the other side of the door.

“Yes.” She said slowly.

Opening the door, the Seeker entered the cabin. While not in full armor, her bastard sword swung from her hip, her wrist and hand hanging casually from it. Seeing the weapon, Saliah began to dart towards her maul. The Seeker threw her hands up in a sign of peace.

“I mean you no harm, Herald.” Cassandra said firmly, trying to control the situation. Saliah froze, not breaking her gaze. “Clearly you realize that, seeing as how you’re wearing the clothes the servant set out for you.”

“I suppose I do know that, yes.” Saliah adjusted her position and stood up, smoothing her outfit.

“How are you feeling?” The Seeker asked more calmly, looking her over.

“Well, I’m not dead or a demon sacrifice. So that’s a start, I guess.” She shrugged with a crooked smile on her face. Realizing Cassandra’s new pet name for her, she cocked her eyebrow and said, “however, mildly annoyed that you still refuse to use my name.”

“Cute.” Cassandra crossed her arms.

“Why did you just call me ‘Herald’?”

“Because it is what the people in the town are calling you: The Herald of Andraste.”

“The who now?” Saliah squeaked, her eyes wide.

“Come with me, I will explain on the way.” Cassandra motioned to the door. 

Eyebrows raised from the news of her new title, Saliah habitually went for her maul. Cassandra stiffened, and Saliah looked between the Seeker and her sword on her hip and back to the Seeker, giving her a look of incredulity. The Seeker put her hands on her hips, dropped her eyes, and shook her head in exasperation, punctuated by a sharp sigh. “I shouldn’t blame your vigilance.” She motioned with her hand, inviting Saliah to get her weapon. “Come on. We go to the Chantry.”

Saliah grabbed her maul, attaching the scabbard to her back as she walked out the door.

A huge crowd of townsfolk had amassed outside her cabin. Quite in contrast from her first walk through Haven, these faces were filled with hope and reverence. Whispers of her and her new title created a din of sound that struck Saliah silent. _Maker, what is going on here?_ She asked herself.

“Word of your actions at the Breach spread around town, and beyond.” Cassandra said, as if in response. “They are saying you are a prophet.”

Saliah had no response.

As they entered the Chantry, Saliah heard the voice of Chancellor Roderick arguing with someone behind the double doors in the back of the main hall. The fight was echoing in the temple. Cassandra hurried towards the door, asking Saliah to wait outside.

“Have you gone completely mad, Seeker?!” A voice said as Cassandra opened the door.

“Hello, Chancellor.” Cassandra replied.

“She should be taken to Val Royeaux and tried by whoever becomes Divine!” He demanded.

They argued on and on, Saliah listening carefully for her fate on the other side of the door. Cassandra insisted on Saliah’s innocence, saying she heard the Divine call out to her for help during the explosion. _Well, that’s a comfort,_ Saliah thought to herself. The Chancellor, not taking ‘no’ for an answer, pressed on reminding his audience that the breach was still in the sky.

“For all you know, she intended it this way!” He accused.

“Alright, that is _enough!_ ” Saliah shouted, throwing the double doors open before she knew what she was doing. Long-striding in and rounding on the beady-eyed little man by the huge table, she hissed “I have been held captive! I fought when I was told to and I almost died trying to close that _thing_. You would still accuse me?!”

“Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to the capital for trial.” He commanded to the two centuries at the door, trying to steady his voice in the face of her anger.

“Disregard that, and leave us.” Cassandra countered.

Commander Cullen, whom Saliah hadn’t noticed was in the room, nodded is head in confirmation. The two centuries saluted, exited the room and closing the door.

Saliah stepped back from the man and collected herself. She knew that she barely had gained these strangers’ trust. She may have already pushed it with her outburst. Silent during the rest of the conversation, she watched the argument, realizing there were two other women in the room. One was Leliana, whom she had also met at the battle, and another whom she had never met.

She watched them argue further with the Chancellor, he retorting to them and further accusing Saliah. She was surprised at how Cassandra had changed her gait about her. She was emphatically defending her, even going so far as to accuse the Chancellor of being a suspect in Most Holy’s demise. The look on his face made Saliah curl her mouth in a smirk. Suddenly disengaging from the conversation, Cassandra disappeared and came back with a thick tome emblazoned with an ornate silver cover of an eye with a sword through the top. Dropping it on the table, she stopped the conversation entirely.

“Do you know what this is, Chancellor?” Cassandra asked, not looking for answer. “A writ from the Divine granting us,” motioning to herself and Leliana, “the authority to act. As of this moment I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

 

Sitting outside the Chantry near a campfire, Saliah’s considered the events of the last two hours as she looked at the building. Before excusing herself from the advisors, she had gone from their suspect and prisoner to their ally. She was a key to their success, maybe the salvation of Thedas if things were as bad as Cassandra suggested. She looked down to her hand, rubbing the strange brand with her thumb. _This is really about the last thing I expected I got up this morning… or ever, really._ She sighed heavily.

Breaking her thought, she saw Leliana step out of the Chantry with two crows, sending the birds off in opposite direction. In quick succession, she saw the Commander approach the portico of the temple. He held a scroll that he quickly unfurled and hammered to the main door. Cassandra stepped out next, motioning for Saliah to join them. She blew her hair out of her face and gathered it over her shoulder, letting it fall back down to graze her elbow. _Here we go,_ she thought. She stood and approached the trio, the other woman joining her from inside.

“My lady Herald, we would speak to you further.” Cassandra invited her in, using the kindest tone Saliah had ever heard from her. She saw that despite their bad start, Cassandra was working to try and make amends.

She smiled genuinely at her, “Thank you Seeker Cassandra, I will gladly join you.” She replied. Looking back at the green and festering wound in the sky, she followed them into the building.

“You’ve met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Cassandra began as they reassembled in the room from before.

“It was only for a moment on the field. My lieutenants told me of your leadership in the pit, my lady. I’m glad you survived.” The Commander cut in, smiling across the great table. In this setting, he was a very different person than who she had met a few days before. He was still an imposing figure and clearly a veteran warrior. But now, off the field, she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. Blond hair, neatly combed back, with a strong jaw that complimented his features. His light brown eyes were made warmer by the room’s lighting. A baritone of genuine warmth and kindness replaced the gruff tone from the battlefield. His smile accented by an old scar peeking up from this lip. His well-made armor was clearly cared for, covered by a red cloak that had an oversized and heavily furred lapel. Like Cassandra, he lazily folded his hands over the pommel of a bastard sword.

“Ah, yes--that.” Saliah began, “I’m sorry if I overstepped bounds, Commander.” She smiled nervously. “Everyone just froze at the sight of the thing, and I’m afraid my instincts took over. I hope I didn’t offend anyone.”

“No, no, not at all.” He replied quickly, keeping the friendly tone. “You probably saved more of my men than otherwise. You have my thanks. My men told me your prowess was considerable.” His eyes moved ever so slightly to the shaft of the hammer on her back and then back to her.

She held his gaze and smiled back. _This is a man devoted to his troops. We are lucky to have him,_ she thought.

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our Ambassador and Chief Diplomat.” Cassandra continued, motioning to the new woman from before. She was an exotic beauty. Her face was of unusual features, but all very fine. Her tawny skin and black hair were in contrast to her light eyes. The contrast made her all the more lovely. She was dressed in a lovely purple tunic and skirt, accented by a yellow silk blouse with voluminous ruffles. She clutched a hand writing desk in one hand and an extravagant quill in the other.

“I’ve heard much.” She began, her Antivan accent furthering her mystique. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady.” Saliah curtsied, her noble etiquette kicking in. Seeing Leliana stifle a giggle, Saliah looked to her.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s nothing, Lady Trevelyan.” Leliana responded, immediately composed. Her blue eyes were still twinkling with amusement. “It is simply humorous to see you jump into the Chancellor’s face one moment, scaring the daylights out of him, and be a demure Lady the next. It’s a gift; don’t loose it. We’re going to need that spirit for the foreseeable.” The group chuckled. The moment seemed to break the last bit of ice between the quartet and Saliah.

“And of course, you remember Sister Leliana.” Cassandra motioned to the woman. Saliah remembered seeing her on the way to the front. She was soft featured, with a singsong voice. Her clothes were un-remarkable and clearly made for comfort, save for a lavender-colored cowl that hid all but a hint of bright red hair.

“She’s our Spymaster.” Cassandra stated flatly.

“Yes… Tactfully put, Cassandra.” Leliana responded, a lilt of annoyance in her tone.

“Good to see you again, Sister.” Saliah responded, curtseying pointedly and cocking her eyebrow playfully. Josephine giggled in response. Saliah stood and readjusted her hair over her shoulder, leaning against the table.

Cassandra, ever the taskmaster, wasted no time launching into their meeting. The advisors discussed the need for more power to close the breach. Cassandra wanted to engage the rebel mages, while Cullen was strongly against it. His recommendation was to garner favor from the Templars for help suppressing the Breach’s power.

 _Fucking Templars._ Saliah thought, keeping her face steady. She had never really forgiven them for her brother, and their use of lyrium was anathema to her.

When Leliana challenged his belief as pure speculation, Cullen reminded her that he was once a Templar. That fact being his proof and knowledge on the matter.

 _He’s an ex-Templar?_ She thought to herself, bewildered. She had heard of the sort, after the uprising in Kirkwall. _No wonder he’s so well trained._ She resolved not to judge too harshly; clearly he had a problem with the order.

Josephine stopped the discussion. She reminded them that neither side would speak to them anyway, due to the denouncement of the Inquisition and accusations of heresy.

The meeting continued on with the advisors going back and forth, concerned about the Chantry’s next move and how to manage it. They resolved that the next step was to send Saliah to meet with a Chantry Mother who would hear what she has to say. She found herself tasked with additional duties for the Inquisition, in addition to meeting with this Mother Giselle.

“Put me to work. I am happy to help however I can.” Saliah offered eagerly.

“Good. I will accompany you.” Cassandra said.

“Thank you, Seeker.” Saliah smiled warmly.

They decided to leave the next midday. Saliah stated that she needed some time to rest and process the last few days, and would need to get her affairs back home in order.  With that, she took her leave of the group and left.

 

“I think she will do nicely.” Josephine began, “she’s of noble birth, and her family is quite well-regarded. She seems eager to do her part. If her leadership in battle is any indication, she will be able to rally recruits for us.”  
“I agree.” Cullen responded. “She also has a very easy way about her, so long as that temper’s in check. I suspect that temper is where she gets her abilities with that…weapon.”

As the group departed the room, Leliana motioned to Cullen to stay back. Closing the door, she began, “Cullen, I need to share something with you about the Herald.”

“Oh?” He asked. “What is it, Leliana?”

“Well, after she told Cassandra about her title, I did some digging to make sure she wasn’t lying.”

He chuckled, “of course you did.” He shifted his weight.

“It turns out, she had a brother who was a mage.”

He furrowed his brow, trying to discern her intent. “So, you think she’s going to try and push for mage support? Is that it?”

“No,” she said curtly, “let me finish.”

He motioned for her to continue.

“Her brother died during the Blight, 10 years ago.”

“Yes, I know when the Blight occurred, ‘Lel.” He said uncomfortably, shifting his weight as the whispers of those memories picked at his mind. “Get to the point. Quickly.”

She paused, trying to find the words. “Cullen… he died at Kinloch. Based on what I can tell, he died a few days…a few days before the Hero, Alistair, and I found you.”

All at once, it hit him like an iron battering ram. His head pounded suddenly as his memories of the young man ripped through his psyche. Remembering his eagerness to be Cullen’s friend. Commiserating with Cullen in trying to get Templars and Mages to accept one another more peacefully. He saw his face, with the same distinct gray/green eyes and white hair, with the same easygoing nature. He staggered against the wall in the war room, holding his throbbing head. He recalled the panic they both felt, running from room to room trying to find the children that night. Working together to protect them from the blood mages and the demons that ran amok. The fear, the confusion…his blood started pounding in his ears when he recalled the moment when the boy stood up to the mages and pleaded with them to lower their arms.

 _How could you side with them?!_ The mages accused. _They would kill you! HE would kill you!_ The mages in his memory, pointing their staffs at Cullen played out as though he were facing them all over again.

He sucked his breath sharply, remembering the bolt of magic coming towards him. He prayed for final mercy from the Maker when a form appeared, stretching out before him, and took the hit. The white-haired body slumped to the ground, dead. The mages took Cullen hostage, forcing him face down onto the body’s abdomen, still reeking from the magic’s smell. The echoed screams of the children reverberating in his memory.

“Edwin.” He whispered.

Seeing his ghosts brought to life, Leliana sharply shook him back to the present. “Cullen!”

Shaking his head, he steadied himself again. Despite the image of his friend’s deadeyes staring back at him in his mind, Cullen focused to collect his self. He looked at Leliana with his eyes glassed over, half in pain from the newly formed migraine and half in sadness.

“Based on your reaction, I take it you knew him.” She said gently, pulling her friend into a hug.

“Yes,” was all he could muster.

They stood there in silence. Cullen was staring off into the nothing hovering over Leliana’s shoulder.

Clearing his throat, he broke the embrace. “I should…uh, really get back.” He said, not making eye contact, looking down. “There is much to do,” he said, his voice quiet.

Leliana simply nodded her response, knowing not to press the issue.

As he turned to leave, she called to him.

“Yes?” he replied quietly.

“Should I get Cassandra?”

“No, thank you.” He looked back at her a smiled weakly. “I just need a bit to collect myself. I haven’t thought of the boy in years.”

“Cullen…” Leliana said after a beat.

He looked back to her.

“She needs to know.”

He nodded slowly, wondering how true that statement was.

“You should tell her how he died.”

“I will, when the time is right.” He said quietly, walking out of the war room. _Maker knows when that will be._

 

The next morning, Saliah awoke to the same plain wooden rafters above her head. _Well, I guess I am living this, and it’s no dream,_ she thought to herself. She got out of bed only to find the same elf from the day before, frozen and standing before her.

“Good Morning, Ana.” Saliah offered a smile as she stretched.

“I…I… Good Morning?” The elf stammered, ending her statement in a question.

Saliah laughed openly. “My dear Ana, there is no need to be afraid of me. I don’t bite I promise!” She stood and went to the servant, trying to calm her. “Let’s start again: my name is Saliah Trevelyan. You may call me Saliah if you wish.” She finished, establishing the familiar connection she would like to have with the woman.

“M-m-m-y name is Ana…Lady Saliah.” The elf tried to smile back, seeing that the holy woman before her would have her be her personal aid.

“Where are you from, Ana?”

The elf looked at her, shocked that she would care. Seeing the look, Saliah shrugged and said, “well, if I you’re going to be the first person I see in the morning from now on, I figure we should get to know of one another.”

Smiling, the elf continued, “I am originally from the alienage of Denerim, m’lady. I came here in service of Mother Augusta, who died in the…” the elf’s voice carried off.

“I am sorry for your loss, dear.” Saliah said quietly.

“It’s alright. Thank you m’lady.” Ana sniffed, wiping her nose. “I… would you like some breakfast?” She offered, her need for duty taking over.

“That would be spectacular.” Saliah replied, her gut grumbling in unison. The elf hurried away.

Dressed and ready, Saliah went out into the early morning. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, making her slightly snow blind.  Walking through the waking town, among the reverent greetings from its folk, she saw Cassandra in the distance. She was busy sparring with a dummy in the training field.

“Good Morning, Cassandra.” Saliah greeted her brightly, approaching.

“And to you, my Lady Herald.” Cassandra bowed her head curtly.

 _As warm as a frozen blanket, that one,_ Saliah thought, giggling to herself.

Seeing the sparring equipment, Saliah suddenly had a desire to train. “My Lady Penteghast, could I join you in a sparring match?” She asked, exaggerating the haughty tone of a noble.

“If you think you can keep up, my Lady Trevelyan.” Cassandra replied, this time smiling.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Saliah gathered a pair of quarterstaffs, and away they went.

Saliah found solace in her match with Cassandra. Focusing on dodging her and attacking her, going through the motions of their dance, Saliah was the clearest and calmest she had been in days. _She is a gifted fighter_ , thought Saliah between motions, _I’m glad not to be the only trained woman around for once_. They practiced together for a few hours.

“My lady Herald, you should ready yourself for travel.” Cassandra said to her, taking a swig from a flagon on water. Saliah winced at the title.

“We will be travelling with a company of soldiers,” Cassandra continued, “and Varric, the dwarf you met at the rift, as well as Solas, the apos—“

“The mage that was there, I remember.” Saliah replied pleasantly, hinting to Cassandra that she didn’t like the term.

“Of course. I will see you when we leave.” And with that, Cassandra sauntered towards her tent.

Saliah made her way back behind the gates of the village, waving to Cullen when she saw him with one of his troops. He nodded a quick greeting, quickly looking back down to his work. She walked further, finding Varric coming out of his tent. She never thought she would say it, but he was a good-looking dwarf. He sported the scar of a broken nose and a clean-shaven face, with his hair in a short ponytail. His armored tunic was half buttoned and revealing a furry, well-sculpted chest. He had as much swagger to him as Cullen…only, well, shorter.

He smiled openly when he saw her approaching. “Good Morning, Beautiful!” He cheerily greeted her as though he had known her forever. It was good to hear someone offer friendship proactively, rather than suspicion or reverence. She knew right away that he meant no disrespect with his pet name for her.

“Good Morning, Varric!” She replied, equally cheerful.

“How are you holding up? The last few days have been…well, dramatic to say the least.” He chuckled.

“Yes, they certainly have.” She laughed. “I’m doing well, thanks. I’ve slept, I’m in one piece, and don’t have a demon up my ass for once.” It felt good to speak plainly with someone. _I could be good friends with this one,_ she thought, thankful for his easy demeanor.

“Or Cassandra for that matter.” He responded, leaning in with a wry grin on his face. They laughed heartily at the comment. “Have you had breakfast, yet?”

“Yes, actually, I have.” She responded.

“Well, that’s alright. You can watch me eat.” He said, inviting her to sit.

They conversed on Varric’s story a bit: how he got to Haven and where he was from. He began to tell her about his adventures in Kirkwall the year before. Then, something clicked for Saliah.

“Wait,” she started.

“Hmm?” He said, looking up from his food.

“Are you Varric…Tethras?”

“The one and only!” He shrugged his shoulders up, looking up at her with a smile.

“No way!” Saliah replied, delighted to be face-to-face with her favorite author. “I am an enormous admirer of your works!”

“Really? Ha! Well, thanks for the compliment.” He replied, scraping his food to the center of his plate, then taking a bite.

“My mother and I fight over who gets to read the latest installment of Hard in Hightown. We’ve been hooked!” Saliah gushed, watching him take the bite.

“Wow, I never thought I would have such a fan in the Hearld of Andraste!” He replied, clearly pleased at his newfound fan.

The mention of her new title quieted Saliah. Realizing what he’d said, Varric put his plate down and looked at her. “Pretty heavy title, huh. How are you dealing with it?” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I have to admit, Beautiful, I don’t envy that crown at all.”

“It’s just…” she started, and then realized how many townsfolk were around. “Well, it’s taking a lot of getting used to.” She smiled to her new friend, hoping he saw that she would elaborate later.

He patted her shoulder and got up, getting the hint. “Well, I better go make sure Bianca is ready for the road. She’s not a light packer, you know.”

“Who’s Bianca?” Saliah asked, genuinely curious. _Cassandra didn’t mention a Bianca this morning._

“My cross-bow.” He replied, smiling.

“You named your weapon… Bianca?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“Beautiful,” he said as he turned around, waving as he walked away “that is a story for another day.”

Saliah realized that she didn’t have any healing draughts left from her fight in the pit. After getting directions from her new friend, she headed over to Adan’s to refill, and to thank him for taking care of her when she was unconscious. She was chiding herself for her rudeness for not thanking him sooner when she almost walked straight into Solas.

“Oh!” she stopped short. “Solas, I’m sorry; you startled me.”  
“Not at all, my lady Saliah.” Solas replied, seemingly completely un-phased. “How are you feeling?” He continued, looking down at her hand. Her brand was glowing lazily.

“I’m quite well, thank you Solas.” She replied. She felt like she should be proper with the elf. She got the sense that he wasn’t anyone to trifle with. He had a deep and old look about him, despite his ageless face. His stature commanded a presence she could not deny. There was wisdom about him, knowledge that made her curious.

“I am glad to hear it.” He smiled pleasantly. “Adan and I watched you closely after the events at the Breach. We were worried how you would come out of it.”

“Oh, you helped heal me?” She asked as he nodded. “Well, then I owe you my thanks. I don’t know that I would be here without you and your talents, Solas.”

“You seem utterly un afraid of those talents, my lady. It is nice to meet someone who isn’t immediately suspicious of an apostate like myself.”

 _Because your magic is no sin,_ she thought to herself. “What school of magic do you study, Solas?” She asked, genuine in her curiosity.

“I study the Fade, primarily. It’s a rare school, as most do not find it interesting. I, however, find it most curious and satisfying.” He responded.

“Ah,” she replied while absently waving her branded hand, “hence your knowledge with this and the rifts.”

“Indeed, and I have a few theories as to why it has connected to you with little harm…well, now anyway.” He said, steadying her gaze.

“You do? Please, enlighten me. This thing has me quite puzzled.” She replied, hoping he could shed some light on it.

“Well, I noticed your fighting style at the Breach, and your distinct ability with your weapon.” He stated flatly.

“What do my style and my maul have anything to do with it?” She asked.

“You know as well as I do that your people have a…different relationship with the Fade, Huntress of the Wyld.” He said her tribal title with no ceremony. He was said it as simply as he would her name.

Hearing her tribal honor stopped Saliah cold in her tracks. Carefully considering her next words, she asked, “you know of my tribe?”

“I have been many places in the Fade during my studies and dreamings. I have come across your kind a few times. I must admit I was surprised to see one of you here. Your tribe is usually so…”

“Secretive.” She finished his sentence for him.

“Indeed.” He agreed. “Although, equally odd is your noble title.”

“My mother isn’t gifted.” Saliah stated. “Those of my tribe who aren’t typically go out into the world. It’s thought that their purpose is to be seekers and knowledge gatherers of the world. My mother met my father when she was a lady-in-waiting for a noble woman. The rest is… well, you’re looking at me.” She finished, still reeling that this stranger knew so much about her normally anonymous group.

“That is interesting.” He said in a way that made her think he was studying her. “And they have no problem with your gifts in the world?”

“Well, let’s just say that my grandparents don’t know I’m here, I hope.” She responded, suddenly very homesick for them. He smiled at her response. She studied him, considering his motives for showing his hand. She concluded that he didn’t have any ulterior motives. To him, her heritage was simply a puzzle piece to an answer he sought.

“Solas…” She started slowly, “I would appreciate it if we kept my background between us.”

“Of course, my lady. I have not shared my suspicions with anyone.” He replied pleasantly.

“It’s just that I want to keep my mother’s people as far away from all of this as possible. With the Chantry being in shambles, I don’t trust their reaction, especially where the Druids are concerned.” She said urgently, absently pulling her hair around to her shoulder and letting it fall again.

“I completely empathize and understand, Saliah.” The look in his eye told Saliah that he was genuine and would keep her secret.

“Thank you.” She said with a grateful smile. “All that said I would love to hear more of your travels in the Fade. I don’t know nearly as much as you do, and it would seem my life is now tied to it somehow.” She was looking up at the Breach as she finished her sentence.

“I would be delighted to tell you more while we travel.” He responded. She noticed his chest puffed a little bit, prideful that he would have an opportunity to share his expertise. “I must go get my pack. I will meet you at the horses.” With that, he left, walking silently down the snowy path.

The company was gathering at the stables. In addition to her trio of companions, there were a few troops, made up of men and women equally, and a supply cart. A young man was bursting with pride as he held up the banner of the Inquisition.

“Temas! Watch it with that horse!” Cullen called out to a young recruit. “We can’t afford for you to accidentally cut it with your sword!” Shaking his head, he approached Saliah and her companions, near the front.

“Yes, Commander! Sorry, Ser!” Called the boy.

“Curly,” Varric said from his stout blond pony, “you dote on those troops more than my mother ever did on me! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had pictures of all of them in your tent.”

Cullen _tsk’d_ his tongue and let out a sharp sigh, clearly annoyed by the dwarf’s jesting jab. Looking up to Saliah and Cassandra as they gathered their reins. “You have everything you need?”

“Yes, mother.” Cassandra said, flatly. Varric about fell off his horse laughing, Bianca jangling in her sling from his guffaws. Solas whispered a snicker, as well.

Saliah was trying to stifle her giggles when he looked to her. Their eyes locked, and they found themselves just looking at one another. While not giggling, she was still smiling.

“We’ll be home in time for dinner.” Saliah continued the joke, though still in their moment.

He smiled a tad and laughed, looking intently into her eyes. They were full of life and laughter. He found himself completely struck by her ability to joke so easily with those who called her a murderer less than a week before. She had a kindness about her that warmed him.

Clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck, he gathered his voice. “Mother Giselle is a few miles south of Redcliffe, in an area known as the Crossroads. You should be there in about 6 hours, likely less. Ride well, my lady Herald.”

“Thank you, Commander.” Saliah replied. She and her companions turned and trotted away, the pony taking up the rear.

“Don't worry, Curly!” Varric called back without turning around, holding up his hand in salute, “we'll keep an eye on the Beautiful Fury for you!”

“Hey!” Saliah said in protest, trying to reach around and smack him. Varric just laughed.

 _She doesn't need protection but thank you, Varric._  Cullen thought, smiling to himself. Her gray/green eyes twinkling in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I find myself keeping pretty in line with the story... trying to find the balance between third person and conversation. Frankly, I think the balance with become how much I type.


	4. All These Things That I've Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinterlands. SO.MUCH.HINTERLANDS.
> 
> Saliah grapples with the reality that, while she's a helluva fighter, she's never really killed this much before...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a lot of this chapter is about the Hinterlands, calling to the fact that OMG you spend so much time there in game!

What was supposed to be a few days, at most, turned into over a month in the Hinterlands. Saliah and her troupe arrived to a region destroyed by war. A war that wasn’t over land grabs or revolution of classes, but of two supernaturally powered groups who were blind in their mutual hatred of one another. To make one step forward in any of their tasks, such as procuring horses and a horse master, they had to take three steps back to gain favor with different groups. Saliah, while at first frustrated with the slow progress of their efforts, found that she was genuinely relieved when they could help these people.  She found great satisfaction in helping them on all counts, from helping build watch towers, to finding food for those who needed it most.

What Saliah struggled with at first was the sheer number of demons invading the area. It seemed like once a day she was going toe-to-toe with a beast of the Fade. She found that the more rifts she encountered, the more she came to hate the Breach and its subsequent tears in the region. She asked Solas about the Fade daily, trying to understand as much of it as possible. And, while the information was certainly fascinating, she failed to see how it was going to help at all. This disconnect frustrated her completely. She felt like for every rift she closed and every screaming monster she felled, two more would pop up somewhere else. She found that pouring that frustration into her fighting and her prowess made her keener, but it exhausted her as well.

What she still struggled with was fighting the humans at war with one another. Taking the lives of those who, in her opinion, were pitted against one another for nothing more than dogma. That same dogma earned her the ire from the mages and the templars, calling her a heretic and a blasphemer.  She fought them through every battle, and in the moment of the fight she enjoyed her work. She found herself loving the battle itself. It was the quiet moments at night alone in her tent, however, where she would feel the guilt of killing them. When she would try to reconcile her actions against her conscience. Some nights were easier, especially when the battles were about protecting the innocent from the raiding parties that had formed on both sides. _I guess this is what war feels like_ , she thought to herself one night as she lay in her cot. She wasn’t sure if anyone had guessed that, while trained and gifted, Saliah had never been in anything like this.

“It isn’t enough,” Saliah began one morning as she sat at camp, commenting on the message she read, “that these mages and templars are fighting one another, blowing up people’s homes. They aren’t even doing it for the reason the whole fucking skirmish started! These are rogue groups of the rogues groups.” Disgusted, she handed Leliana’s latest note to Cassandra who began reading it. It had been over three weeks since they left Haven. There was a constant stream of correspondence back and forth. There were notes from Leliana, giving them updates on the situation in general and intelligence on areas for their influence. Endless requests came in from Threnn, the Inquisition’s quartermaster, on supplies for Haven. Updates from Cullen, letting them know to where he had deployed troops so that the Inquisition might stave some of the violence befalling the real victims of this war, the people. The fighting had become so bad that the company took two weeks to reach the Crossroads to meet with their prime objective, Mother Giselle. Everyday leading to the meeting, and since, had been filled with battles and errands.

“I agree.” Cassandra said, finishing the note, “what is happening here is wrong. It’s almost as though they have reached the point where they are fighting for the sake of fighting, with no end goal in mind.” She looked out over the ridge where they were camped. “I understand why the mages may have fractioned off…” she said, cutting Saliah off with her hand before she could interject her support of the mages. “Many of the mages were sheltered in their circles for a long time. The reality of war and the lure of freedom could lead them astray. They… are too innocent to understand the nuances of the Rebellion, the political ramifications of it.”

“So, you’re saying that they are having a magical temper tantrum?” Saliah asked.

“In a way, yes.” Cassandra responded, motioning her hand in agreement. “The Templars, however…those actions are mystifying. They are usually so regimented and organized. Dissent among their ranks at this scale is very troubling.” She folded her arms in thought, holding her chin.

“Well, yes it is. But, are you that surprised, Cassandra?” Saliah asked.

“What do you mean, Saliah?” She asked.

“It seems to me that dissent could be wide spread because most of the Chantry’s leadership was…” She stopped herself before she said ‘wiped out in the blast.’ She had learned how close Cassandra was to the Divine. It was as though she had lost her mother. “…is no longer with us.” Saliah finished.

After considering it, Cassandra waved her hand in agreement. “You’re right. It is still hard for me to grasp how completely obliterated Chantry’s leadership is, and how deep it goes. Not only from a magical and religious point, but from a military perspective as well.” Cassandra’s face fell as she was reminded, again, that her mentor and leader was gone.

Saliah leaned on her, putting her arm around her. “Hey,” she said, “if she’s anything the way you’ve described her, Divine Justinia would want action, not sadness from you.” In her weeks with this woman, Saliah had come to know that the only thing that made her meaner than Dispair Demon was being seen as weak in public. So, the best way to keep her going was to remind her that ‘action’ was the only way.

“You have a point, my lady Herald.” Cassandra replied, her voice hard and proud again. “We should head to the Crossroads with little more delay. With Mother’s Giselle’s guidance, we may be able to get headway with the Chantry and have clarity on what’s next. I will reply to Leliana’s note. If you would, please reply to Cullen’s note about the troop deployment to the southern points, and the recruits we garnered after taking out the Templars’ camp.” She stood to find writing implements by the requisition table.

“My pleasure, Cassandra.”

After a moment, Cassandra came back and handed her a pen and inkwell. “Saliah,” she began, her voice soft, “…thank you. I... you have been most gracious, keeping my spirits up when I become sad. I do recognize it.” And just like that, she left in the direction of her tent.

“Was that the indomitable Seeker, having a moment of weakness with our Herald?” Varric came up, clearly seeing the exchange. He plopped down next to Saliah, very pleased that he had new ammunition for teasing the Seeker.

“Be kind, you imp.” Saliah said, elbowing her friend in the arm and smiling. “This has been hard on all of us. And Cassandra’s not great at weakness.”

“Fair enough.” He replied. “You know, she’s not the only one who’s not good with weakness.” He looked at her with a face that showed concern for his friend. “She’s just not as good at hiding it.” He finished, offering the opening for her to vent.

Saliah shrugged her shoulders, wrapping her arms around her knees and putting her chin on them. “I’m doing alright, Varric.” She offered, not looking him in the eyes. “The  last three weeks have just been a lot to take in. Between the skirmishes, the fade rifts, and the people who are just trying to live their lives,” she could feel the knot in her chest beginning to form, “it’s just not what I expected to see. When we left Haven, I thought we would be back in a few days. It’s been nearly a month.”

“That’s how these things work, Beautiful,” Varric offered. “In times like these you leave base thinking one thing, and then show up to find that it’s all gone to shit in a moment. And then, you find yourself hunting rams for no real reason other than to help people eat.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Listen,” he continued gently, “you know you can always talk to me about this right? To me you’re you first, and the Herald second. I won’t judge you for being human.”

“You’ve been like that from the get-go, Varric, and I really appreciate it.” Saliah looked to her friend and smiled.

“Well,” he started more loudly, marking the end of his moment, “how else am I going to get the best story.” He smiled, clearly kidding her. “I’ll leave you with your note to Curly.” He winked, smiled again, and sauntered away.

Saliah rolled her eyes at the last comment and began her report to the Commander. In it she detailed the recent skirmishes with the Templars, telling him about the seemingly blind need they had to attack everything outright. She confessed that she and Cassandra were confused as to their motives, stating that they seemed more interested in general rampage than putting down any mage threat. The mages behaved no better, she noted, stating that they were easily overpowering civilians and openly stealing from them. _These people who have so little now,_ she wrote, _find them selves fearing from both sides. I feel so badly for these people, Commander._ She scratched out the last statement after she wrote it, believing it to be improper to be so personal in an official report.  The Commander only wanted the facts, not her conjecture. Instead, she told him that as a result of breaking their fronts, the Inquisition would be receiving even more recruits, made up of those who surrendered. She also acknowledged his troop movement to the southern points. She believed it will work quite well and helped solidify the region further. She quickly signed her report, stood up, and handed it to the scout who was waiting to leave.

Just as the scout was leaving, another came looking for the Seeker. Cassandra took the note and studied it. She wrote a quick reply and handed it back to the scout. Saluting, the scout left.

“Another errand?” Saliah asked as she approached the Seeker, who was deep in thought.

“Leliana has written, saying that she has still found no sign of the Grey Wardens…” Cassandra said, concern in her voice.

On her side, Saliah saw Varric shift uncomfortably. _He’s worried for his friend, Hawke._ Saliah thought to herself. “Well, we’re not dealing with a blight, so that doesn’t seem too strange.” Saliah said to Cassandra, a thought occurring to her as she said it. “We’re… not dealing with a blight, are we?” Saliah was suddenly concerned that things had just gotten worse.

“No, not presently,” Cassandra began, “however, with the amount of demon activity since the Breach’s creation, it is strange that they haven’t made themselves known.” Saliah was relieved at the confirmation.

“Alright then, what are we to do?” Saliah asked, knowing that this meant they were getting ready to move.

“She would like us to investigate reports of a Warden that has been seen, here in the Hinterlands. The only name she has is Blackwall. He was last seen near the old dwarven ruins north of here.” Cassandra responded. She was holding something back.

“Cassandra, what is it?” Saliah asked.

“Leliana would like us to collect him and bring him back with us. She’s concerned that the Wardens may have had a hand in Most Holy’s death.” Cassandra said, clearly not believing what she was saying.

“That seems a little far-fetched, no?” Saliah asked, equally astounded.

“I’m sure Leliana has her reasons for suspicion,” was all the Seeker would say.

 _Another day, another adventure,_ thought Saliah. _Maker, I miss sleeping in a bed._ “Alright people!” She called out to the camp, strapping her maul to her back. “We head north.”

The company headed north to an area where they had not yet been. Saliah was relieved at the relative lack of fighting they encountered. Since they had broken the fronts of both sides, it seemed as though the region was beginning to get back to itself.

When they arrived at dusk of that day, they made camp just south of the lake leading to the ruins. It was a beautiful area, lush with plants and wildlife. It came complete with a small waterfall that babbled its unknown stories to them. _Ed would have liked it here,_ Saliah mused to herself. She suddenly felt very guilty for how little she thought of her brother these days, or her parents for that matter. _I will write when I get back to Haven. Mama will be tickled to find out about my new friend, the author._ She smiled as she pitched her tent. Her pangs of homesickness had become less and less, as she accepted her role as the Herald. She was very thankful for that, at least.

The next morning, Saliah and her companions set out to find the Grey Warden. They approached what seemed to be an abandoned home on the lakeshore. As they got closer, Saliah saw a tall man marching up and down a line of young men armed only with basic weapons. He seemed to be drilling them, but she wasn’t sure. Just then, he turned around, showing the shield clapped on his back. It was emblazoned with the emblem of the Wardens. They had found their man.

The group approached openly, crossing onto the front yard of the house, trying not to startle him or his men. He saw them and closed the space between, quickly. “Remember how to carry your shields!” He commanded over his shoulder. “Remember you’re holding, not hiding.” In response, his men readied themselves.

“Warden Blackwall?” Saliah called out.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?” He replied, unsheathing his short sword and readying his shield. He looked more worried than aggressive, so Saliah decided not to reach for her hammer.

In response, Cassandra unsheathed her bastard sword as Varric pulled Bianca. She looked to them, lowering her hands to show that she did not mean to attack. Seeing this, the Warden put his weapon away, shield still in his hand.

Looking back at him, Saliah said, “Well, depends who you ask for details. But, in short, I’m with the Inquisi-“ just then, his shield flew up, catching an arrow that would have hit her square in the temple. “Oh, shit,” she gasped, suddenly angry at her own obliviousness. Before she knew it, three Templars came running down the field, covered by an archer. Grasping her hammer and hoisting it forth, she leapt to meet them.

They made quick work of the Templars. Saliah almost felt there wasn’t enough for her to do. She was impressed with how easily he fell in with them on the fight. Once the four were dead, she calmed herself down and approached the Warden again. She found him surveying the dead, a look that was now too familiar for her on his face. “Sorry bastards” was all he said. He turned to the young men, calling them “Conscripts,” and told them to return to their families. They were ordered to not forget what he had taught them.

“You’re no farmer. Why do you know my name?” He asked, turning to her and sheathing his blade. She took it as a sign of non-aggression, so she slung her maul onto her shoulder, her arm lazily hanging for leverage. She noticed him watching her do it, he seemed both puzzled and a little amused.

“Like I was saying, I am with the Inquisition.” Saliah responded.

“We are here investigating the Gray Wardens. We are trying to see if they had anything to do with the murder of the Divine.” Cassandra added.

 _As subtle as an avalanche,_ Saliah thought, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Yes, what she said,” was all Saliah could get out.

“Maker’s balls!” The Warden began, clearly shocked. “The Wardens and the Divine… that’s not possible… no, you’re asking so you don’t really know.”

“Enlighten us then, Gray Warden.” Cassandra leaned in, getting aggressive. Saliah gently grasped the Seeker’s shoulder, wrinkling her brow, smiling a bit and shaking her head slightly, encouraging Cassandra to stand down some. _I admire her determination_ , _if nothing else_ Saliah thought. She was oddly tickled by Cassandra’s behavior in that moment. Cassandra hesitated, but did as she asked. Rather than be offended, she saw the Seeker try to force herself calm.

The Warden went on to tell them that he was largely a recruiter, so he wasn’t abreast of the current situation at Weishaupt. When pressed as to why (ever so frankly by the Lady Seeker), he speculated that it was possible his missive had been lost or stolen; he didn’t seem too worried about his own ignorance. He insisted at the Warden’s innocence, stating that their purpose was to protect during dark times. There weren’t assassins, nor were they a political group. Satisfied with his answer, Cassandra motioned to Saliah and the others to leave.

“Thank you for your time, Warden Blackwall.” Saliah said in a proper, official tone.

As she was leaving, the Warden stopped her. “Inquisition…agent, is it?”

“She is the Herald of Andraste, Warden.” Cassandra said, announcing her title loudly. Saliah just winced, chuckling ruefully at Cassandra’s bluntness.   _I think my maul is subtler._

The Warden looked back to her, cocked his eyebrow with an impressed look on his face. “The Divine is dead and the sky is torn,” he continued, “thinking we’re absent is as bad as thing we’re involved. If you’re trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me.” She considered his option. She studied his bearded face, searching for anything other than genuine concern. There was eagerness in him that was almost palpable. He wanted to do right by his creed and protect in the face of total darkness.

“The Inquisition can use all the help it can get,” Saliah said. “But, and I mean no offense, what could one Gray Warden do?”

“Save the fucking world, if pressed.” His gravelly voice responded, with a smirk on his lips.

She immediately remembered the stories of the Hero of Ferelden standing alone, facing the Archdemon so long ago. She shrugged one shoulder, tilting her head into it and accepting his retort. “Fair enough.” She said, and motioned for him to walk with them.

As they returned to camp, a scout approached them. Fully expecting another set of missives from her colleagues at home base, she opened it, surprised that this letter was on official looking stationery, embossed with the Inquisition’s insignia. _Return to Haven as soon as you can. Mother Giselle has made contact with Chantry officials in Val Royeaux that have agreed to speak with the Herald and hear what she has to say. Hope you are well. Travel safely. –Josephine._

Saliah smiled, looking up to her camp. “Rest well tonight, everyone! Tomorrow we return to Haven.” Her news was met with sighs of relief and exclamations of happiness. The troops in the camp started buzzing around their duties, in hopes of having this day over with sooner. At dinner that night, Saliah sat with the men and women, chatting and laughing about the first things they would do when they returned. Saliah promised herself a bath and a night at the tavern. Varric, Solas, and Cassandra all smiled to their friend and Herald that evening. They were all happy to see her relieved for the first time in weeks.

 

 

They reached the borders of Haven a day and a half later, around midday. Cullen noticed the party as he was overseeing the initial training of the newest recruits, down in the training field. Seeing Cassandra and Saliah at the front, he was relieved to see them looking relatively well, albeit very road weary. He noticed a stranger with them, riding near Saliah, with Varric behind him. He was a broad, thick man, with a fierce look about him and a full beard. His armor showed that he was a Gray Warden. Cullen was at once relieved that they found this person Leliana sought, and mildly nauseous at the notion of needing a Grey Warden in the first place. _Maker, let it not get to that place again._

“Selven,” he summoned his assistant, “notify the Ambassador and Sister Leliana that the Hearld and her Company have returned.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As they approached, he noticed that Saliah looked… different. She was little harder than before. She was laughing with Cassandra as he imagined she would be (well, maybe not with Cassandra) but there was… something different. _Perhaps she has hit her stride with her companions and has accepted her role in this war_. He thought. Catching their sight, he raised his hand in salutation. Cassandra responded with a single solemn wave, while Saliah smiled openly and waved her arm back and forth a few times. _That action alone dictates the difference between those two women._ He thought, amused at his own insight.

He approached them as they dismounted at the stables. “Welcome back.” He said, genuinely happy to see them.

“Thank you, Commander.” Cassandra said, her tone even.

“It’s good to see you, Commander Cullen.” Saliah responded brightly.

“How was the ride back?” He asked pleasantly.

“It was alright, actually, blissfully few events. Although a little longer than I would have liked,” Saliah said, looking at him as she stretched backward, arching her joined hands over her head. Her back popped a few times. He couldn't help but notice the arch of her back as she stretched, and he chided himself for gawking.

“If I don’t have to sleep on a cot tonight I’ll be much better.” She finished, not noticing his lingering stare. With that, she gathered her pack off her horse and heaved it, one-handed, over her shoulder, pulling her hair out from under it. Blowing a wisp of hair out of her face, she looked at Cullen and said “I’d stay and chat, but I smell like shit and demon and horse and road and…well, yes. I need a bath.” She smiled and left, waving with two fingers as she made her way to her house.

He watched the rest of the group dismount as he turned to go back to his trainees. A little after he had reached the sparring ring, he caught Varric out of the corner of his eye, coming towards him.

“Hello, Varric.” He said, not breaking his gaze on the two recruits who were still sparring. “Stop giving your left side when you turn! Turn on your shield side, or switch your hands! But, decide!” he called out across the field to the sparring pair.

“How are you, Curly?” Varric asked, watching the recruits.

“I’m well, thanks.” He said, looking down to the dwarf. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about Saliah, if you have a second.” He said, still watching the pair fight.

“I do,” Cullen’s voice suddenly concerned. He leaned against the fence.

“I think she’s more upset about the Hinterlands than she’s letting on. She saw a lot of fighting and well… I don’t think she’s as used to it as she’d like us to believe. I tried to talk to her about it, but she wouldn’t really get into it with me.” Varric looked up at Cullen, “I was thinking maybe if you talked to her, she might open up a bit more.”

“Why not ask Cassandra or Solas?”

“They tried to talk to her, as well. They got the same results. I don’t think she wants us worrying about her.” He looked back at the recruits. “I was thinking that, since you weren’t there but you corresponded, she might be more willing to tell you what’s on her mind. I just worry about her. She’s been through a lot and we’re putting an awful lot on her shoulders.” Cullen was touched by the dwarf’s request. He clearly cared for her. _Brothers and sisters in arms_ , Cullen thought.

“She did mention a few things in her reports to me that would lead me to that conclusion.” Cullen thought about Saliah’s insights and concerns for the victims of the war they ran into. “I will talk to her and see if she will respond.” He said, smiling at the rogue who had inserted himself into this conflict.

“Thanks, Curly. I appreciate it.” He leaned on the fence, “I’ve seen her come a long way since that day at the Breach. But, she hasn’t seen the kind of things we have.” He paused. “I just want to make sure we don’t… over do it. Too much too soon, you know?”

“I completely understand.” Cullen replied.

Varric smiled up at the Commander and took his leave. Cullen leaned back over the fence. “Maker’s Breath, man! You’re going to hurt yourself before you hurt him! Why don’t you try a mace, then work up to the great sword.”

The bath water felt amazing. Saliah sat in the tub, asking Ana to hand her a few more logs for the brazier under it after a bit. She scrubbed herself clean, her mind wandering as the caked dirt and grime fell from her body. She inspected herself as well, counting the gashes and bruises on her as she ran the sponge from her feet up to her collarbones, again and again. _It could have been much worse,_ she thought, thinking back to the arrow that nearly brained her. She leaned back into the basin; savoring the weightlessness the water provided her and clearing her mind.

“It feels so good to be back here,” she said to the elf, opening her eyes after a moment.

“We are happy to have you back, Lady Saliah.” The elf said genuinely. Saliah was thankful that she wasn’t afraid of her anymore. The intimate familiarity reminded her of home.  “The stories coming from the field were… well, I am glad that you are safe.” She said, handing her a bottle of perfumed oil after Saliah gestured for it.

“I am glad to be here as well, safe and sound.”

“How long will you stay now? There’s word that the Chantry would see you,” Ana asked.

“I’ll know by the end of the day. Hopefully, meeting with Chantry people won’t take a month.” She chuckled. The elf responded with a chuckle. _You don’t know the balm you are, Ana,_ Saliah thought. Being able to be around a person who didn’t shove her purpose in her face was a gift. Saliah was relishing it.

She absent-mindedly watched Ana fret around her maternally, taking her clothes for washing and laying out clean clothes for her.  Saliah noticed that the tunic laid out was much more fashionable than what she had before. A soft gray thing lined with fur and accented with darker gray piping along the hem and cuffs. The silver buttons on it were intricate, but she couldn’t make out the pattern from where she sat. It looked as delicious feeling as the water in which she floated.

After a long soak, she stood up and looked for a towel.

“My lady!” Ana breathed, looking at her naked body.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not much of a prude, I’m afraid.” Saliah responded, suddenly very aware of herself.

“No, it’s not that. It’s… my lady you must be careful with yourself. You need salves for those bruises and cuts. I will go see Adan and gather a few for you. I’m sure you’re going to be very sore tomorrow, after sleeping in a bed for the first night in a month.” Ana handed her a towel, gathered her soiled clothes and went for the door. Saliah marveled at her speed.

“Ana, don’t worry about it.” Saliah called as she made for the door, wrapping the towel around herself. The elf simply stopped and shot a look Saliah’s mother would give her.

She sighed, “yes, ma’am.” The elf, satisfied in Saliah’s relenting, left without another word.

Saliah dressed herself and dried her hair by the fire. Once she was finished, she gathered her maul and her armor. She left her house and headed to the blacksmith.

She crossed the village, greeting those who greeted her, thanking them when they welcomed her home. _I need to remember that despite my beliefs and opinions, they take comfort in believing in my title,_ she thought as she greeted the upteenth person to call her “Herald.” She quickly reached the Blacksmith outside the main gate and dropped off her items for repair and cleaning.

Turning to go back and find the advisors, she spotted Cullen at the training field. _He is relentless in getting them ready,_ she thought admirably. As she approached, she noticed the sheer number of recruits. Hundreds more than what they had sent back to Haven.

“Commander, this is…” She said walking up to him, “impressive. There are so many more here than what we sent.”

“We’ve received a number of recruits, outside of those you sent our way. Some locals from Haven, as well as some pilgrims who came to take up our cause.” Cullen said with his arms crossed as he surveyed the field. “None made quite the entrance you did, however.” He looked sideways at Saliah, a wry smile spreading over his lips.

“At least I got everyone’s attention.” Saliah smiled, waving her branded hand.

“That you did!” He said resoundingly, turning to her. He started walking down the rows of recruits, motioning for her to follow him. “I was recruited into the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself.” He offered without prompt, “I was there during the Mage uprising. I saw, first hand, the devastation it caused.” A shadow of a memory came over his face, and just as quickly disappeared.

“You were in Kirkwall? Oh, then you were there at the very beginning.” Saliah replied. She remembered the news of the uprising reaching Ostwick and the shock her family felt upon hearing it. She also realized that she didn’t know very much about the Commander, despite the fact that he probably knew a lot about her.

“Yes, I was. Cassandra sought a solution to the chaos. So, I left the Templars and joined her cause. Now, it seems we face things that are far worse.” He launched into a speech about the Chantry; their political moves despite the Breach’s presence; how they’ve lost control of the Templars and the Mages. He passionately talked about how the Inquisition could do what the Chantry can’t and the people they could help. He was excited at all they could do to fix things.

Saliah listened intently, carried up into his passion for this cause. He believed it fully and she couldn’t help but be inspired drawn in by his dedication and desire for it to succeed. It was easy to see why her Company spoke so highly of him while they were out in the field with her. His hands continued to gesture emphatically about all they could do. She saw a fire come out of him the more he talked.  _There is conviction and leadership in him_ , _and..._  Saliah thought, not sure where she was going with her line of thinking. She didn't realize that she was leaning towards him slightly, completely taken with the baritoned Commander's declarations. 

“Forgive me,” he stopped suddenly, smiling nervously, “I doubt to came here for a lecture.”

All Saliah wanted was for him to continue. His belief and enthusiasm was making her feel much better about everything, and he was so easy to listen to. “No, no, not at all!” She urged him to continue, “if you have one prepared I would love to hear it!” She smiled at him warmly.

Her smile and desire to hear more caught him off guard. He laughed nervously again and cleared his throat, “another time perhaps,” he offered.

Saliah took that as her cue. “I won’t keep you any longer, Commander.” She replied, suddenly nervous that she had offended him. As she turned to leave, a runner came and handed him a note.

“Ah, we are wanted in the war room.” He said to Saliah, thanking the runner.

“Well, let’s not keep them waiting, then.” Saliah replied.

“Indeed. Shall we?” He motioned for her to move first.

As they walked through Haven, Saliah began again. “Where are you from originally, Commander?”

“I am from Honnleath, my lady. It’s a small village near Redcliffe.”

“I see. What did your family do there?”

“My parents were farmers. We grew wheat and corn, and raised a few Druffalo for milking.” He was very matter of fact in his answer, as though he didn’t want to give too much away. She didn’t want to press the issue.

“Ah..ha,” was all she said in reply.

“Forgive me, my lady.” Cullen said, suddenly realizing his tone. “I… tend not to share much. It’s often best for the troops to only see me as their officer and not much else. I suppose I’ve forgotten how to tell people about myself.” He smiled nervously. Saliah suddenly realized that, while dedicated and a steady warrior, Cullen was actually very shy.

“No, that’s alright, Commander. I didn’t mean to pry.” She offered pleasantly.

He sighed, clearly annoyed with himself. “I, uh…” he stammered, slowing their pace, “while my whole family were farmers and happy to be that, I was fascinated by the Templars. I would ask them to teach me whenever they would have time. My parents saw my enthusiasm for them and my faith in Chantry so they encouraged it. When I turned 13, my father allowed me to join the order after the local Knight Commander recommended it.”

“You’ve been in the order since you were 13?” Saliah asked, surprised. _  
_

“Yes,” he laughed the response. “I was in the Order longer than I’ve been out of it.” His face darkened a little, “I gave Chantry my life.” Was all he said, clearly caught in a moment.

“I’m…I’m sorry if I upset you, Cullen.” Saliah offered, realizing that she said his given name.

Gathering himself he replied, “No, no, not you, my lady. I… the Order has changed from its original purpose and…”

“It’s hard to walk away from everything you know into this mess?” Saliah offered the response with a crooked smile, waving her branded hand in an offer of commiseration.

“Yes.” He was thankful that she understood.

They reached the Chantry and met with the other advisors. She and Cassandra spent a long time giving a full report on their entire excursion in the Hinterlands, complete with describing a dragon in the northwest region. Turning their sights forward, the group decided that Saliah and her Company would leave in two days’ time for Orlais to meet with Mother Giselle’s contacts. While there, they were to also pick up what schematics they could for the blacksmith and the engineers. Cullen wanted to make sure the troops have everything they need and be completely prepared for anything. The group knew the magnitude of these meetings.

After the meeting, Saliah retuned to her cabin to find a collection of salves, draughts, ointments, and teas waiting for her on her writing desk. Near them, a note saying which was which, and what they were for. Also offers for help applying them, should she need it. Saliah smiled at the note from her maid. Remembering how she reminded her of home, she sat down and pulled out paper and ink. She spent the next three hours writing her parents a very long letter, telling them of her travels and her life in Haven. While she wanted desperately to tell her mother about her crisis of faith, she knew it was too risky. _Maker forbid anyone should get wind. These poor people have been through enough._

She left her house, surprised that it was dusk, and went to see if Leliana’s people could have her letter sent by crow. Once completed with the errand, she headed over the to tavern. She remembered telling her Company that she would join them for a homecoming drink.

Entering the tavern, she was greeted with a cacophony of hellos. She entered, genuinely happy to see everyone. She sat down next to Varric and Blackwall, ordering a stout from the barkeep. They sat and drank for awhile, and she quietly listened to Varric and the Warden regail her with stories of their lives and their adventures. _It’s no wonder he writes so many books!_ Saliah marveled at her friend’s gift. The tales delighted her and the troops of her Company. The drinking and storytelling went on for quite awhile.

Later that night, as the town slept, Saliah found herself wide-awake. Frustrated, she dressed and went for a walk. Haven was a lovely town at night. In its silence, she realized just how small the place was, in the immediate town. The center of it was the Chantry, and the temple was the biggest building, period. She realized that she had missed this place as much as she missed home, while she was out in the Hinterlands.

Not really paying attention to where she was going, she found herself at the shore of the lake, just south of the training grounds. The night was cold, very cold. It felt like it was going to snow. She looked up to the bright half moon, seeing the storm front approaching from the east. At a slight distance, she saw the Breach, infecting the night sky with its sick, green haze. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to rant at scream at it, but held herself for fear of waking the town. _Ed would be proud of me keeping it in right now,_ she thought as she remembered him. She had actively missed him these last weeks. She would wonder what he would say about all of this and what wisdom he could have provided if he were still there. She would stain to hear him, trying to fantasize what he would say. The silence made his absence almost palpable.  She shook herself from the rabbit hole of her brother’s memory and tried to be present in this moment.

As she stood there, looking out over the horizon, she heard the crunch of old snow behind her. Whirling around and ready to fight, she found Cullen with his hands up in peace.

“Commander!” She said more loudly than she intended, “you startled me,” she finished, hushing her tone. He was not in his armor, but in a heavy cloak with a woolen tunic peeking out at his wrists. He was still broad and tall, but softer. More a person and less the Commander.

“Indeed I did. My apologies, Lady Saliah.” Cullen approached. “May I join you?”

“Yes, please.” Saliah motioned to a spot next to her. “What has you awake?” She said, turning to him.

“Ah,” he started and then hesitated. “Old ghosts and new problems, I’m afraid” he responded, clearly obfuscating.

“It would seem that I simply have new ghosts and new problems.” Saliah said, pleased with her turn of phrase, and then became very quiet at the accidental realization of her truth. Cullen smiled in return, until he saw her face fall.

He studied her for a bit in silence, considering what Varric had said earlier.

“My lady,” he began.

“Saliah. Just Saliah, please.” Saliah said impatiently, “It’s the middle of the night. No one will be offended.”

“Yes…my lady.” He realized that he couldn’t cross that threshold with her just yet. He began again, “Varric came to me today after you all arrived. He seemed a bit worried about you.”

“Did he now?” Saliah replied, half annoyed and half touched by Varric’s concern.

“Yes. He was worried that you were perhaps… a little unnerved by the last month.”

“That was very sweet of him.” Saliah replied, crossing her arms and smiling quietly, looking over the lake.

“I…” Cullen realized that he wasn’t sure where to begin. “Your reports also suggested to me that you were overwhelmed at the sight of everything.”

“I tried to keep them factual and limit my opinions, Commander.” She sounded a bit defensive.

“And for the most part you did, not that you had to.” He was surprised that she hadn’t. He turned to her, trying to guess at what was bothering her most. “I certainly wouldn’t blame you for having written about the rifts in more detail. They were harrowing, I’m sure.” He finished and looked out into the snowy hills that were now a light blue in the night. 

She snickered at the comment. He looked back at her, incredulous that she would find humor in them. He found a face that was furrowed, troubled. Completely unlike the beautiful, sunny face that he had grown accustomed to seeing.

“My lady?” He asked, confused.

“The fade rifts were the least of it, Cullen.” She began softly, “may I call you that?”

“Of course.” He replied, smiling.

She remained quiet for a bit and then suddenly continued. “The rifts, the demons, _that_ -“ she pointed to the Breach, “I can fight those all day. They’re wrong to be here, in this place, outside the veil. It’s…” her eyes looked over the lake, “fighting the people, Cullen. Taking the lives of those who fight a war over dogma they’ve been fed. Without Chantry’s influence, I wonder if Templars and Mages would hate each other so.” In her mind, she recalled a Templar her brother had befriended at Kinloch. Edwin would often tell her of his friend in his letters. She felt envious of that Templar in that moment, for the first time in a long time.

“My upbringing taught me of the Maker and Andraste, but also taught me that Chantry was not perfect, in fact far from it. Now, I suddenly find myself a prophet and symbol for Andraste, and I’m not sure I believe any of it.” She looked to him, seeking an answer. Instead, she found him looking intently at her, his hand covering his chin, fingers grazing the space under his nose. He nodded quietly and motioned for her to continue.

“Coupled with that, I… I’m having a hard time reconciling the amount of blood on my hands as this prophet they would have me be.” She stood quiet.

“You do not know war,” Cullen gently said aloud, moving his hand from his face. He suddenly realized how innocent she was, despite her huge strength and power and bravado. He saw a woman conflicted with herself and what was expected of her. He empathized, and desperately wanted to take it from her so she wouldn’t know that burden. He suddenly felt very protective of Saliah. He had an overwhelming and unknown desire to reach out and hold her to comfort her.

Saliah crossed her arms, breaking their gaze by looking out over the lake again. “I know fighting…skirmishes and peacekeeping… especially in the last year since Kirkwall. I protected my father’s lands and the lands of those who look to us for protection. But, you are right,” she looked at him, “I don’t know war.”

Looking down at her feet, she continued. “In the moment of battle, I love the fight. It…feeds me, I’m excited by it. I always have been. The crunch of my maul, the sounds, the smells… Maker help me, it arouses me. I’m good at it, and it drives me on. I’m not ashamed by it at all… it’s just… I’ve killed a lot of people in the last month, more than ever before. And then I’m conflicted by my guilt because I know we’ve saved those who were caught in the middle.” She looked at him, expecting to see horror. Instead she saw camaraderie and knowing; the face of a man who has seen more than his fair share of bloodshed, done by his hand. “You must think I’m an insane, rambling woman.” She turned her eyes back to the lake, grimacing and blinking back tears of rage and frustration with herself.

“Oh, Maker, no.” Cullen chided her softly, gingerly putting his hand on her shoulder. “Saliah,” he realized the threshold, “you… are not insane, nor are you rambling. You are… you’re going through what every warrior goes through in the beginning. You and every new recruit here. You are not alone in these feelings.” As he finished, he reached for her other shoulder and pulled her so that she was facing him. He found her unwilling to meet his eyes, and had large tears spilling onto her cheeks. “I am relieved that you are going through this, in a way.” He whispered.  _Maker, what I would give to relieve her grief,_ he thought shocked at admitting how much he cared for this woman.

“Relieved?” She asked, wiping her eyes as her voice cracked. She was utterly confused at his relief.

“Yes." He nodded, trying to catch her gaze. "I would be worried if you didn’t. The difference between criminals and us is how we reflect on the battle. Criminals love the fight and never care about who they kill, even after the fact.”

She considered it and found that it made her feel better. She looked up at him. “Does it get easier?” She sniffed, still wiping her eyes.

“No, and nor should it. Taking a life is no small matter. But, don’t loose yourself in the pain or try to bury it. That brings… consequences that could prove problematic.” His last comment hit a little to close to himself. He pushed the memories away and focused on Saliah. “To help with the pain, think of those you’ve helped. Remember that none of what you do is for pleasure, despite how you feel about it in the heat of battle.” He squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, searching for her reaction. He was relieved to see the storm that was on her furrow dissipate. Now, she simply seemed weary and tired.

“Come, it is late and you’ve had a long day. I will walk you to your cabin.” He offered her the path. She moved forward and he walked alongside her, with his hand hovering over the small of her back. 

They walked, the only sound was their feet crunching over the snow and ice. She walked as though he weren't there, she was surveying the area around them. She seemed more at peace, and Cullen was relieved that he could help her. He moved his hand behind his back as they reached her cabin's door. He offered his hand to her for a handshake. She took it, and halfway through shaking it, she pulled herself to him and hugged him. He startled for a minute, and then gently hugged her back. His hand was on her hair, realizing how soft it was. _She is dealing with a lot_ , he promised that he wouldn’t make this awkward for her by being nervous at the contact with her.

“Thank you, Cullen. You’ve brought me peace I haven’t felt in several weeks.” She said as she pulled away with her smile returned, even through bloodshot eyes. She tucked her hair behind her ears.

“No need for thanks, Saliah. It is a hard path and I know it well. I’m happy I could help you.” He smiled.

She smiled back. “Goodnight, Cullen.”

“Sleep well, my lady.” He said as she closed the door.


	5. Look Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team contemplates the implications of the events at Val Royeaux. Saliah reveals more than intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, so far! They've really helped keep me inspired to continue this. I hope you continue to enjoy the inner workings of my friend Saliah. :)

There was a profound silence between Saliah and her companions as they left Val Royeaux. The only sound was the clip-clop of their mounts as they journeyed back to their camp that was just beyond the borders of the city. They had camped far from the place, not knowing what to expect from their audience with Chantry. Saliah didn’t want to risk the lives of all of the troops, especially since they would need people to report back if things went poorly.

“Did that just happen?” Saliah asked, breaking the silence after the first hour of the ride.

“Yup.” Varric responded, looking at his pony’s flaxen mane. His pony’s truncated gait broke the rhythm of the rest of the horses.

“We saw a Templar punch an old woman and the Lord Seeker pull the Templars out of the city.” Saliah continued, still not believing what she described.

“Yes, Herald, we did.” Cassandra responded in the same unbelieving tone. “I… I don’t understand the Lord Seeker's actions. This is very unlike him. He’s usually a very reasonable man. There must be an explanation for all of this…”

“I don’t know what you saw, but I saw the leader of the Templar Order encourage a man to openly clock a Chantry Mother in the face.” Varric said, looking up at Cassandra. “I don’t think there’s much to interpret there, Seeker. The Templars have made it clear they are not returning to the Chantry.”

“You powers of observation are astounding, dwarf.” Cassandra replied acidly.

Saliah half listened to Cassandra and Varric bicker back and forth as they often did. She was still astounded by what they witnessed at the city’s square. One minute, they were convinced they were walking in to be arrested. The next, they were walking out with the shaky support of one Chantry Mother, whose support resulted from the betrayal from the Order that was sworn to protect the church. She shook her head as she looked ahead.

“Did a Mubari puppy pop out of my ass while we were at it?” Saliah asked to no one. Varric laughed openly at her comment, while Cassandra sniggered despite herself, and Solas smirked. Then, they all continued their ride in silence, separately considering the implications of that day’s events.

“Let’s not forget the invitation from the First Enchanter, my lady.” Solas offered, trying to be productive, “it would seem that the mages are at least willing to speak with us. I think their involvement could prove most useful, especially where closing the Breach is concerned.” Solas said to Saliah. Saliah looking over to him saw him look down to her branded hand, and then back to her with a knowing look. Saliah knew that there was more than he would share here, with the others present. She was thankful and knowing of the reason for his vagueness.

“Let’s discuss it more, back at camp.” Saliah responded, returning the knowing glance.

“Yeh, ‘bout that.” Sera, the pixie-like elf that had joined them in the city, spoke up. “’Ow long is the ride back, to ‘Aven, I mean. My ass is sore from just getting to yer camp, yeh?” she fidgeted on her mount. Clearly, this girl was not use to riding on a horse.

“Well, that depends.” Saliah said flatly. “The way we ride: two days. But with Lady Vivienne’s carriage joining us,” she motioned back to the ornate carriage, drawn by a four-team of horses, “more than likely three and a half. That’s if we ride long.”

Saliah grimaced at the elf’s obvious dislike of her news. Rolling her eyes, Saliah looked back to the front of their path.

Honestly, Saliah wasn’t fond of either of their new recruits. Sera approached them at the docks, offering herself and the aid of the “Friends of Jenny,” saying that the group wanted to help. But, between her immaturity, irreverence for the situation, and pushing unfunny jokes, she put off Saliah completely. Varric had pulled her aside after they met her, advising that he’d heard of the organization and that keeping her around could prove useful; so, Saliah accepted her help.

Lady Vivienne, a beautiful and menacing woman, didn’t so much ask to join them as she did inform them that she was coming back with them to Haven. She approached them after the incident with the Lord Seeker, chiding them for gawking. Vivienne informed them that they would need her, and it was only right that she return to offer her expertise on the political situation to “your fledgling organization.” Saliah saw right through it, and knew she just wanted to be where she saw power forming. Saliah knew this was one of those people you kept closer than your friends, if anything to keep an eye on what came out of her mouth. Since they had hit the road, however, Vivienne had kept to herself, within the walls of her carriage.

 _The Inquisition needs all the help we can get._ Saliah thought to herself, considering the two women. _And, I don’t need to be friends with all of my allies, I suppose._

As she thought about her allies, she mind wandered to her interlude with Cullen at the lake a few nights before. She couldn’t help but smile at the memory as she led her horse on the trail. His lack of armor, both literal and otherwise; his kindness and patience with her ranting and tears; his wisdom and insight: all of those moments swirled in her mind like leaves dancing in the wind. Her mind circled around the moment where she hugged him, making her look down and curl her lip at her own forwardness. She absentmindedly lingered on his scent, which was somewhere between sandalwood, leather, and campfire smoke. They were all wonderful scents, especially when on him. She shook her head suddenly, snapping back to the present. _Maker breath, what am I doing?!_ She furrowed her brow. _He’s the Commander of the Inquisition’s Army! I shouldn’t be mooning over him like a girl._ She set her jaw and focused on the road. She smiled despite herself when the ghost of his handsome face flitted in her mind.

That night at camp, Saliah and Solas spoke quietly of his thoughts on the mages helping with the Breach.

“In short, I think that your connection with the Breach will be a stabilizing force, given your… unique tie to the fade. So, the concerns of pulling more magic into it would be unfounded. We clearly need more energy to close it that one person can provide.” He said, concluding his thoughts.

“I think I agree with you, Solas.” Saliah replied, thumbing her hand. “But, I have to convince the advisors that this is the best way.”

“And how will you go about that, without revealing your background?” Solas asked.

“I’m still working that part out.” Saliah said. Her eyebrows pushed together, trying to sort it out. She didn’t want to _lie_ to the advisors, especially to Cassandra and Cullen, but at the same time, she didn’t want to pull her people into this fight.

 

Saliah was thankful when Haven came over the horizon. The final few miles were grating on her, between Vivienne’s passive-aggressive complaints about the state of the roads in Ferelden and the cold in the region, and Sera’s constant whining about her ass and the horse and their location, and, and, and... It took everything in Saliah not to flatten the two of them under her maul, repeatedly. _Andraste preserve me, if they make one more comment…either of them say one more thing…_ Saliah thought to herself. She began to pull her hair into a topknot.

Varric, realizing Saliah’s patience was wearing thin, became mercifully attentive of his fellow archer. He made a point to regale her with stories of his exploits. Cassandra decided to join Vivienne in her carriage to discuss anything that would keep the enchanter out of Saliah’s hair. Solas kept Saliah busy as well, taking the last few miles to discuss more matters of magic with her. She always loved hearing about his time in the fade. He was a surprisingly good storyteller, despite himself.

The approach to the stables included crossing the ever-growing training yards. In the week they’d been gone, it seemed that their numbers multiplied again. A wide swath of the snowy shoreline of the lake was dotted with tents and firepits. The sound of training and sparring exercises filled her ears as she looked for Cullen quite intently.

“Looking for our welcoming party?” Varric grinned wickedly, catching her looking towards Cullen’s usual haunts. “I’m sure he missed you too, Beautiful.”

“I have no idea what you mean, Varric.” Saliah said shortly, wincing when she realized she was a little too defensive about it.

“Uh huh.” He replied, cocking an eyebrow. “We’ve all seen it, the way the two of you get stupid and full of smiles around one another, since we got back from the Hinterlands.”

Saliah rolled her eyes at him. Varric, in response, batted his eyes at her. They shared a look and laughed.

“You’re full of it.” Saliah accused playfully.

“We’ll see about that.” Varric looked beyond her and waved. “Hey, Curly! We’re back!” He called out, then starting laughing hysterically when he saw his friend’s face turn bright pink. Saliah looked quickly to see if Cullen was there, and then promptly swatted the dwarf on the arm when she realized he was playing her. That only made her friend laugh harder.

“Beautiful,” he panted between guffaws, “blushing on you is even more noticeable with your white hair. You need a better Wicked Grace face than that!”

 

Cassandra and Saliah immediately made their way to the Chantry after they dismounted and handed off their horses to the horse master. As they approached the city gates, Saliah saw a mountain of a man with horns, camped near the blacksmith’s forge. He was accompanied by a motley group of people. She made a mental note to ask about him after their meeting.

As they entered the Chantry, they found Josephine walking from her office towards the war room. “Ah, it’s good you’ve returned!” She said, greeting them, “we heard of the encounters in Orlais.”

“I’m sure you did,” Saliah replied, smiling in greeting to her colleague. “We’ve also gained some new allies. A woman named Vivienne de Fer, she is the—“

“Vivienne came to join our cause? The personal enchanter to Empress Celene?” Josephine cut in, breathless. “Herald, this is momentous! If she is willing to join us, then perhaps we are beginning to garner more traction than I originally thought!” Josephine immediately began scribbling on her ever-present writing deskette.

Saliah and Cassandra exchanged looks, both knowing that Saliah would keep her opinions of the haughty woman to herself. Clearly, she was going to be helpful.

As the trio walked into the war room, Saliah continued with her update. “We’ve also had an elf named Sera join us who says she’s with an organization called ‘Friends of Jenny.’ Varric tells me that the group could prove useful in furthering our information network.” As she finished her statement, she nodded her head to Leliana in greeting. Cullen smiled to her in salutation, as she was finishing. She felt herself flush at the motion. _Damn you, Varric._ Saliah thought, remembering the dwarf’s joke on her. She clenched her jaw, forcing the butterflies that had formed in her stomach to quiet down. She chided herself for not returning the greeting as soon as she noticed her transgression, and curtly nodded her head to him in response. She was surprised to see that he seemed put off by it. _Alright Saliah: focus. Quit mooning._ She thought, focusing herself on Leliana.

“Yes, I’ve heard of this group. Well done, Herald. Any new avenues for intelligence are welcome.” Leliana said approvingly.

“It’s a shame that the Templars have abandoned their senses, as well as the capital.” Cullen spoke up in his Commander’s tone of propriety and decorum.

“Can’t say I’m too surprised.” Saliah said, forgetting herself, as her dislike of the Order was made clear. “At least we know how to approach both parties.” She looked at the Commander and saw that he bristled at the comment. She realized that she knew better than to make that comment. The Mage versus Templar topic was always a touchy one with this group.

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” Cullen challenged. Despite his annoyance at her comment, he could guess why she had no love for his former fraternity, her brother’s memory pulling at his mind.

“I had a brother who was a Dru--a mage, and the Order wasted no time in taking him from my family.” Saliah said sharply, her eyes flashing at him. “So, yes, I have little love for the Templars.” She looked at the rest of the room, realizing that all eyes were on her. “He… died, during the Fifth Blight. I’m afraid it’s a rather sore topic for me.” She offered as an explanation, looking down to her feet. _I almost let the cat out of the bag, there._ She thought at her near revelation of her people.

“I see.” Josephine broke the silence in an even tone, “…well, now we have the opening to approach both the Templars and the Mages.” She clearly wanted to change the subject to the matter at hand.

“Do we?” Cassandra questioned aloud. “Lord Seeker Lucius was not the man I remember.”

“True.” Leliana offered. “He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what? My reports have been...very odd." She seemed troubled at the lack of definition in her reports. The rest of the council shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the lack of direct information.

"We must look into it," Cullen suggested, his eyes never leaving Saliah’s face. "I'm certain not everyone in the order will support the Lord Seeker. I could contact some of my old comrades, see if they would join us." She looked at him then, and his breath caught. _Makers breath, woman, I need you to trust me!_ He wanted to tell her, his protectiveness for her resurfacing. Their eyes locked, and he saw her fury aimed at him and his insistence. All it did was make him even more stubborn and motivated to keep her safe from the magical group. He knew that the rebel mages posed a threat that he feared he couldn’t contain, not in his current state. He grimaced, putting his weight on the table and looked down. He saw Cassandra look at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead," Josephine countered back, breaking the ice as she played devil’s advocate.  

"You think the Mage Rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!" He looked up and responded to Josephine forcefully, before he could catch himself. “Forgive my tone, Ambassador, but the mages—“

"I could at least find out what the mages want," Saliah said flatly as she cut him off, her surfacing temper ringing in her voice. She roughly ran her fingers through her hair and then gathered it over her shoulder. Cullen thought she looked perfect in that moment, despite the rolling argument.

Cassandra, knowing Saliah’s unwavering support of the mages from their travels, tried to reason with her. "No doubt what they've always wanted, Saliah, support for their cause." She offered to her friend.

"We shouldn't discount Redcliffe. The mages may be worth the risk," Josephine insisted, circling the table and standing next to the Herald.

"They are powerful, Ambassador," Cassandra acknowledged her sentiment, "but more desperate than you realize. Saliah and I saw them in the Hinterlands. We witnessed how out of control they are. They may not be nearly as organized as we would like to believe."

"So there could be danger. What else is new, Seeker?" Saliah retorted, "I've been in danger since I walked into the Temple of Sacred Ashes." The memory of the ordeal stopped Saliah. Now she grimaced and looked down to the war map, putting both hands on the table and letting it take her weight. Her armor chinked as she settled, her maul groaning slightly in its brace. “This will be nothing different, Cassandra. We still need them to close the Breach.” Saliah realized was very tired of the discussion at that moment as she stared at the map.

“Yes, but we still don’t know what pouring more magic in to the Breach will do, Saliah! It could kill us all! It could kill _you!_ ” Cullen shouted, forgetting all decorum and pushing against the table. The combination of his emerging feelings for the warrior, his lingering fear of mages, and his guilt over the truth of her brother all came together in a force that moved the table, slightly. While the others in the room jumped a bit at his outburst, Saliah seemed nonplussed. She moved with the table.

Saliah was, however, very confused by why he was suddenly so angry. She realized that she had to lower the temperature of the argument, quickly.

“Solas seems to think otherwise, my lord.” Saliah said quietly, still hands down on the table. She was working very hard to lower the tension in her voice and in the room. She looked at him again, her eyes steady. The butterflies in her stomach were going full throttle as she saw the fire that was still smoldering in his.

She stepped back from the table and composed herself. Looking at the room, she decided to reveal Solas’ observations. “He, Solas that is, believes that my mark and I would have a stabilizing effect on a magical intervention with the Breach. He’s quite confident that it would close it.”

“And from where did he glean this revelation, hmm?” Cullen shot back, his temper still high.

She sighed, looking at him and then to the others. “Because,” she chose her words for a moment, “because of my unusual…connection to the Fade. Solas believes it’s why I survived being branded.” She held up her hand as she said it, showing the mark’s every present, lazy green haze emanating from her palm. She saw Cullen dumbstruck in that moment. _He believes I am magical._ Saliah concluded, hoping that her explanation wouldn’t frighten him away, or any of them for that matter.

“Your connection to the Fade, my lady?” Cassandra asked, confused at this new information.

“Yes, Saliah. What is this connection to the Fade that you describe?” Josephine pressed.

She looked out of the window, collecting her thoughts. _Fuck me. I have to tell them. There’s no other way. Gamma, Gampa; Mama, Ed… forgive me._

“My…heritage is complicated.” She began, looking back to the group and fidgeting with her hair. “As you all well know, my father comes from a well-regarded noble family in Ostwick.” Her audience nodded in silence. “My mother’s family however…”

“Yes, your mother’s background has been very difficult to pin down.” Leliana commented. “We can’t find much about her from before her marriage to your father.”

“And there is good reason for it, Sister.” Saliah responded quickly. “She...” Saliah stopped, unbelieving that she was going to reveal her people. “My mother comes from a group that hails from southern Orlais, in the Arbor Wilds. They are known simply as The Tribe. They are an incredibly insular and secretive people. Save for a few that willingly come and go, we largely stay away from the rest of Thedas.”

She looked around to see their reactions. Josephine’s face was one of surprise, her mouth was slightly open and the tips of her fingers covering it. Leliana face was stone, telling Saliah that she was hiding her surprise. Cassandra looked hurt, which made Saliah sad. She knew her sister in arms felt slighted that Saliah hadn’t trusted her with the information; especially with all the time they had spent together. Cullen’s face was more quizzical, as though she had answered a long-standing question. She looked at all of them for a beat.

Cullen broke the silence first; his voice composed once more “that’s… illuminating, my lady. But, you haven’t explained your secretive people’s connection to the Fade.”

“Yes, that.” She responded quickly. “Well… as you all know, I think, the Arbor Wilds was left largely untouched by the Tevinter Imperium during their invasion a millennium ago. And, it has remained largely unexplored. Save for the Emerald Graves.”

They all nodded knowingly.

“Because of the lack of outside influence, that part of the world was never touched by the Blights or any of the Imperium’s…machinations. As a result, we became different. Our magic and our abilities, they evolved differently than those outside of the Wilds. That difference spreads to how we interact with the Fade and how we view magic. My grandmother told me that we aren’t weakened by the Fade as so many others are. The spirits there have little influence on us. Our magic users, as a result, cannot be possessed.”

“At all?” Cullen asked, incredulous. His head began to pound as the pieces of her brother’s mystery became clear. He set his jaw, willing the pain to stop. He was pleased that it seemed to be working a bit.

“There have been one or two instances, but that is over the course of hundreds of years. It is certainly not at the rate that’s seen in Circles.” Saliah responded.

“Are you magical?” Cassandra asked. Saliah expected the question.

“No, not at all. My brother was… but, not I.”

“Then where do you get your abilities?” Josephine asked.

Saliah shrugged, “all I know is that the warriors of my people are gifted with a tribe mystery known as the Strength of the Land. My Grandfather has it, as do I. Our warriors who are gifted are all trained to hone it. I’ve always been this way. My gift began to manifest fully when I was 10 years old.”

“So, you have spent time with this ‘Tribe’?” Leliana asked, her face still stone.

“Oh yes…when my brother was taken from my family by the Templars, my mother and I left for the tribe that very night. I was with them from my tenth year, until I was 16.” Saliah responded quickly.

“So your tribe supports apostasy.” Cassandra stated flatly, her voice was the hardest Saliah had heard it in weeks.

“Please don’t use that term, Cassandra, it’s… cruel.” Saliah said quietly.

“It is what they are, Herald. They do not go to Circles. Their magic does not serve men.” Cassandra replied factually, echoing everything Saliah hated about the Chantry.

“No, they do not go to Circles because they do not need to. They don’t need to be put in prisons! They commit no _fucking_ sin!” Saliah cut back, her need to protect her people causing her temper to flare again.

Cassandra’s glowered at her, her years of Chantry service coming face to face with Saliah’s upbringing. Cassandra was at odds with understanding her friend’s want to keep her secret, and her own hurt that she didn’t think she could trust her with it. Cassandra resolved in that moment to forgive her friend, but knew she would need time to come to grips with Saliah’s truths.

Saliah stopped, breathed, and continued in her even tone. “We do not have what you would call ‘mages.’ Our magic users are known as Druids, and the only magic they wield is drawn from nature. Druids never touch lyrium in their studies, focusing only on their push an pull with the world around them.” Her voice soured at the word ‘lyrium’.

Cullen took notice of the tone, finding comfort in her distaste of the stuff. _Perhaps she will not judge me for stopping my use of it._ He thought hopefully.

“Do they use blood magic?” Cullen asked suddenly, his voice cracking a bit at the word. His head began pounding again as he recalled the torture blood magic put him through after her brother died. He winced in pain.

She shook her head at him, not noticing “no, Cullen. Blood magic is a thing of the Imperium. My people are unable to wield it, and we wouldn’t want to. It’s… unnatural.” For the first time since her revelation, she saw Cullen visibly relax. She was glad for it, but at the same time she wondered at his interaction with the magical path. Clearly, the practice bothered him more deeply than normal.

“How did Solas know of your identity?” Josephine asked after a long silence.

“He guessed at it when he first met me, probably beginning with the way I look. It’s unusual, for sure.” She smiled crookedly at them, fully aware that she was unusual-looking. “He has come across my kind in his studies of the Fade. He noticed my fighting style and my ability with the maul.” She pointed to her weapon.

“He confronted me about it just before we left for the Hinterlands excursions, calling me by my tribal title. I asked him to keep my secret. Please do not punish him for it.” Saliah pleaded with her final statement. She hadn’t considered that her revelation could get her friend into trouble.

“Your tribal title, my lady?” Leliana asked.

“Oh, that. Uh, as a fully reckoned warrior of the tribe, I’m called a Huntress of the Maker’s Wyld. A Lead Huntress, actually…my grandfather is the tribe’s chieftain.” She said plainly. She fidgeted with her hands, braiding her fingers together, unsure of what else to say. For the first time in her life, she was acutely aware of her maul’s weight on her back. It brought her an odd sense of comfort, as though its presence was her family with her.

“And you and Solas are sure that this…uniqueness will be a stabilizing force?” Cullen asked, his voice the Commander’s again.

“Yes, Commander, I am. It makes sense, and I trust Solas’ expertise on the Fade.” She looked at him, hoping he would trust her and relent. She wanted so much for him to trust her.

He sighed, rubbing his temple with a gloved hand, “I still think we need to reach out to the Order…” he began, his voice tired and unwilling to fight another round. Saliah noticed just then that he suddenly looked very spent, as though he had been training for a while. She worried for him, and wanted nothing more than to make him feel better.

“Perhaps we do both?” Josephine offered the compromise first. “Commander you should reach out to your friends in the Order, outside of Lord Seeker Lucius. Try to rally them to our cause. Meantime, Sali—the Herald, I mean—can go to Redcliffe and meet with the Rebel leader.” Saliah knew that the Ambassador as a tactic to gain consensus and nothing else was using her title.

Cassandra and Leliana nodded in agreement. Looking around, Cullen saw that he was in the minority on the matter.

“Alright, that seems a wise course of action, my lady Ambassador.”

“Meanwhile,” Leliana said, “I will focus my influences to discover what is going on with the Templar Order, along with my continuing investigation on the Grey Warden’s disappearance. The timing of the two groups running amok has me… concerned.”

“I think that’s fair…” Saliah agreed to the compromise, though still not liking the notion of so many Templars around.

Saliah started to panic that she had told them so much, with so much at stake. She began hurriedly “I need to ask you all something, before we finish. I will ask for little else while in your service. But, do me this favor.” They all looked at her. She continued, “I need you, all of you, to swear to me that you will not involve my tribe in this campaign, at all. That means no spies to investigate them further; no influence from southern Orlais to seek out those like my mother who live outside; no troops to scope out the Arbor Wilds. I ask first because I my people do not have a dog in this fight. Consider me their contribution to the Inquisition. I ask secondly because, frankly, your people will not make it out of the Wilds. Few uninvited people do. I also ask that we keep my… truth to ourselves. Let me tell people as I see fit. Please do not share this outside this room.”

They all considered her plea for a moment. Leliana spoke for all of them, “my lady Herald, you have nothing to fear for your tribe from your Inquisition. We will not seek them out, unless you tell us otherwise. We will gladly keep your secret.” Saliah was very moved and relieved by their willingness to comply. She hoped they were fully truthful.

They concluded the meeting soon after, not really setting a time on when Saliah would leave for her meeting. Saliah figured it was because the other women wanted to give Cullen time to clear his head. He mumbled something about a headache as they were wrapping up. Saliah felt very guiltily at the notion of causing him pain.

As they walked out of the war room, Saliah grasped Cassandra’s arm and pulled her aside in the Chantry hallway. She looked at the woman’s face. Her grey eyes were narrowed and steely. Saliah didn’t really know what to say.

“I’m… sorry I didn’t tell you, Cassandra.” Saliah said remorsefully, “I just… I needed to protect my kin. Can you understand?”

“I do, my friend. I truly do.” Cassandra’s voice was still edged. “I will need some time to process all of this, though. The implications of your people are… well, I’m sure you understand.” Cassandra patted Saliah on the arm, trying to smile, and walked away. Her gait seemed a little looser than normal, and her posture was slouched.

Saliah walked back to her cabin alone, realizing that she was still in her armor. When she arrived, she was thankful that it was empty. While she loved Ana and all she did for her, Saliah wanted a little time to herself.

She entered, promptly took off her maul, armor, and under armor clothes and sat on her bed, in her small clothes. She flopped against her pillows, staring at the now-familiar wooden rafters. _Maker balls, did I really just do that?_ She sat up, her chest knotted in anxiety. Getting up, she heated the bathwater Ana had left for her and went for a change of clothes. She sat in the bath until the water was cool, all the while considering what she told the advisors. As she got dressed and dried her hair by the fire, she rolled the conversation around in her head. She considered her colleagues’ reactions… she resolved that it went rather well, all things considered. She would have to tell Solas of it.

Nipping at her mind was Cullen’s sudden fury with her. It was still confusing her. She didn’t really understand why he was so against the mages involvement, given that they were the most direct choice. “Vestiges of being a Templar…” she said to herself, shaking her head as she gently ran the brush through her waist-length locks again and again. She was touched at his concern for her life, though. His passion as he yelled at her made her heart beat a little faster. The smoldering look that shot from his dark amber eyes in the heat of their argument stirred something her deep in her. _I bet he’s great in the sparring ring._ She smiled, cocking her eyebrow at the notion. _I’ll have to remember to challenge him sometime._ She thought about what the match would look like. While she was remarkably strong, and fast and trained—he was as well…except that he easily had an additional 10 years of experience on her. She thought about their battle styles, how they would move. Would he grapple with her at all, or would it be all weapon based? She wondered at the combination of sweat mixed with his scent. She found her breath quickened at the thought of the potential interlude. This time, she didn’t force it out of her mind. Staring at the fire, she enjoyed her fight fantasy with the Commander… she wondered if it would ever go anywhere else. That thought, however, stopped before she allowed it any further.

“Saliah Trevelyan, there are many bigger things at stake than whether or not you bed Commander Cullen Rutherford.” She chided herself out loud. _Still,_ she thought, _I bet it’s something…_ “and I bet I am one of many women here who would have him.” She groaned, flopping her arms to her sides. She shook her head at herself, giggling at her infatuation. She looked at the fire, and sniggered again, rolling her eyes at herself.

Sighing, she sat up and resolved to find Varric and see if he wanted a drink or 10 at the tavern. She felt the need to share her truth with him as well. He might as well know, and she had a sense that he would keep her secret. Knowing what she did of him, she knew enough to know that he only told her what he wanted to. He compartmentalized information, and she knew he would do that for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came largely from my own questions about why the Inquisitor would be able to withstand the mark. Also, my own opinion is in here a bit, since I couldn't stand either Sera and Vivienne. I didn't want to include them originally, but I recognize their roles and importance to the overall story. 
> 
> Iron Bull next time, peeps.


	6. Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyrium. It's a bitch.

Cullen quickly excused himself from the war room. While he knew that his fellow advisors knew what ailed him, he thought that there were enough confessions for the day. Saliah could wait to hear of his lyrium issues until after Redcliffe, whenever that happened. For now, his only goal was to make it back to his tent without fainting or heaving. Pushing all other thoughts from his mind, Cullen clenched his teeth and set out for his destination.

Stepping out into the midday sun, Cullen winced at the sun’s blinding reflection on the snow. _This blighted snow will be the end of me_ , Cullen thought as he tried to maintain a sense of decorum while leaving the temple. Slowly, he his way back to his tent by the training yards, his eyes wincing in time with the pounding in his head. Trying to ignore the pain, he waved half-hearted hellos and greetings to those who greeted him. Walking down the steps to the main entrance of the town, Cullen staggered and stumbled on the last step. Holding himself against the cobblestone wall, he closed his eyes and breathed through the latest round of blinding pain that was emanating from the base of his skull and tearing through his eye.

“Hey, Curly, you alright?” A familiar voice said from the nearby campfire.

“Yes, Varric, I’m fine. ‘Bit of a headache, I’m afraid.” Cullen, eyes closed, mustered every last ounce of himself to not literally vomit his answer.

“You don’t look fine.” Varric’s voice was very close, the gravel of it somehow comforting. Varric’s scent, however—his musky, sweaty scent of leather mixed with travel—was almost enough to send Cullen over the edge of nausea. In his current state, there were few things that Cullen could tolerate, and scents were not one of them.

Varric looked at the Commander, his face was pallid and clammy-looking. Obviously, this man was not well. Varric darted his eyes around to see who was looking and found that there were few people in the streets. None had noticed Cullen. “Cullen, are you alright to walk? I can get one of your men to help you.”

“That’s quite alright, Varric. Thank you, but I really should walk the rest of the way alone.” Cullen replied quietly. Varric understood. The potential of seeing the Commander as anything other than indestructible would be bad for morale. And, right now in its infancy, morale was a lot of what held the Inquisition together.

“If you’re sure...”

“Yes, quite.” And with that, Cullen stood and steadied himself. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was in the shadow of the outer wall. Silently thanking the Maker for the wonder of shade, he continued on. In his pain, he completely forgot that Varric was right there. His only focus was the next 40 some-odd paces into his tent.

Finally reaching the inside of his tent, which was blessedly dark save for the light peeking in from the edges of the tent’s fabric, Cullen collapsed on his cot. _I only need a few minutes of darkness and then I’ll be fine,_ he promised himself. He fumbled on the ground around his cot for a vial of pain reliever. His hand closed on what he sought and he sat up to take it. Finishing the vial, Cullen sat with his shoulders slumped, his arms resting on his knees, his head hanging.

After a few minutes, the white-hot pike that was driving from the back of his head was beginning to recede. His pain was back to tolerable levels, but still there. He looked up to the bookcase in his small, but very organized tent. There he saw his phylactery, the one thing that could rid his pain completely. It sat there innocuously, at the top, just out of his view and apathetic to his pain. His hands balled into fists unconsciously, the yearning for lyrium growing deep within him. Cullen could taste the ghost of the bitter, chalky draughts that he used to take. His mouth watered at the thought of it, despite the foul flavor. His mind wandered to the haze of its high. The haze that made all of what he endured…tolerable. Driven by addiction, he mindlessly stood and moved towards the bookcase.

 _Just one draught…_ the addiction sang in his mind. _Just for today. It has been quite a day, what with the Herald’s confession and her rebellion…and her naïve trust for the mages… who does that woman think she is…_ He reached for the box.

“Druids don’t touch lyrium in their studies…” the memory of Saliah’s voice, curled into disgust at the mention of lyrium, called through the haze of his addiction’s seduction. Suddenly her face as he left the war room filled his head. Her cheeks, flushed by the recent argument; her beautiful and kind face held a look of concern as he left. He had seen that look before, but from her brother, the night that he died. They were discussing how best to collect the children and get them out, before any of the blood mages had noticed they were missing.

Cullen blinked. Out of his withdrawal fit, he was instantly very aware of where he was standing. He looked to his hands, becoming very frustrated with himself. Looking back at the top of the shelves, he furrowed his brow. “I don’t need this.” He said to himself.

 _Yes, you do—especially today, Cullen. It’s been a long day, you have worked so hard and dealt with much. It will help you process the fight with the advisors, with her... take the edge off your temper... It would be the first in months. You owe it to yourself..._  the soundless voice came from nowhere and everywhere.

“NO! I DO NOT NEED YOU!” He ranted at the inanimate object on the shelf, whose addiction was very much alive. Spinning on his heel, he turned and leaned on his writing desk. His head, while not pounding anymore, felt heavy. All of his body felt heavy, as though he were being pulled into the ground by unseen hands.

 _You would feel so much better_ , the demon of his addiction whispered silently. _There is so much to do, Cullen. How will you manage your work? How will you manage her? You want her, almost as much as you want me. But, how will you balance her brother’s ghost? How will you tell her your truth? All of your truths?_

Cullen clenched his teeth, his body beginning to shudder. The fits when his addiction took voice were the hardest. It was as though he were back at Kinloch Circle, tortured by that lustful demon all over again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out both the memory and the voice. That horrid, husky, sexual voice felt as though it were inches from his ears. The memories from Kinloch had become worse since the discovery of his connection to Saliah. Cullen’s nightmares had obsessed over the newly re-opened wound. Nearly every night, it seemed, he relived the death of his friend, and her brother, Edwin. Over and over, he relived the stench of blood magic that oozed from his friend’s body after he was killed. The shrieks and cries of the children being taken rang in his head as he remembered how useless and hopeless he felt.

He gripped the side of his desk, the wood cracking under the strength of his grip. “I do not need you.” He said again, this time steadily, trying to calm himself down. Suddenly a vertigo took him, dropping him to his knees, his body heaving and shaking. He tried to heave his stomach out. Again and again, he tried to empty himself, but nothing came. He was suddenly cold, shaking, and desperately thirsty. Forcing himself up, he went to his wash table and poured himself a glass of water. After finishing it, he collapsed in his cot again. The fit seemed to have passed completely, but he still needed a moment to collect himself. His troops could not see him like this.

Over the din outside, he heard her alto voice call out, “Hey, Varric! Fancy a drink or ten at the tavern?” He smiled despite himself and instantly his mind sped gratefully to her image. She was the most amazing woman he had encountered in a long time, he admitted to himself. Images of her filled his mind. Every time she arrived back to Haven, proud in her armor, beautiful despite the filth of the road on her. Every time when Saliah’s smile, her kindness and easy-going nature drew everyone to her towards a goal. That moment on the lake when she was simply a young woman facing the reality of her world and not the larger-than-life Herald of Andraste, complete with her magnificent weapon. He relished every moment he had with her, knowing that they would never be anything more than that. There was much too much at stake. But, for now, he allowed himself the luxury of her memory and what intimacy her trust afforded him.

Even if it was only for 30 minutes, Cullen slept peacefully.  The scent of lavender and crystal grace from her saturated his memory, forcing the demon and its addiction to heel. His dream was the moment she hugged him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first, this was going to be a scene in a larger chapter (which I'm still writing)... but I didn't feel right putting it in with the preamble to Redcliffe. Cullen's journey to sobriety was one of the clinch things that made this world so relatable...and made me so fond of the character. 
> 
> So, there it is. Consider it an interlude ;) I hope you enjoy it


	7. Iron Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull and his Chargers come to Haven. I hope you enjoy my take on it!

Varric looked down into his beer, contemplating what his friend had just confessed to him in the quietest corner of the tavern. He rolled the stein of beer between his hands, watching the surface of it swirl and distort the reflection of the tavern’s rafters. Between the confession of her tribe and the fight with the advisors, Varric had a lot to think about.

“Damn, Beautiful, that’s quite a story.” He said after awhile, looking up to find her face that was searching for his reaction.

“You’re not mad?” Saliah asked. Saliah was worried that she would upset all of her friends as badly as she had upset Cassandra. She needed them, and she needed them not to resent her for her secrecy.

“Mad? Shit, no.” Varric chuckled. “Saliah, if I were to get mad every time someone felt they could finally confess something to me, I would spend my life pissed off.” He leaned over and covered her hand with his, “thanks for trusting me with this.” He squeezed her hand and she smiled. “I assume this is not for public consumption?”

“No, not at all.” Saliah breathed, dropping her voice “I can’t afford to have my tribe, _especially_ our magic users, tangled up in this… whatever this is.”

“Fair enough. My lips are sealed.” He took his hand away to grab his stein and take another swig of beer. “You sure about the mages, though? I mean, I agree with you, but…”

“Yes. I trust Solas, and I’m sure he’s right.” Saliah nodded her head; her tone was weary of the topic. Varric dropped it. For a beat, they both drank deeply from their steins.

“Oh, have you seen the big Qunari over by the blacksmith?” Saliah asked, changing the subject. “I meant to go over and see what his story is.”

“Yeah, I went over and said hello after you and the Seeker went to your meeting.” Varric replied. “His name is The Iron Bull. Apparently, he’s the head of some mercenary group called ‘Bull’s Chargers.’”

“Cute.” Saliah smiled.

“Yeah, although I don’t know that I would make that comment to him.” Varric rubbed his hand against his stubbly cheek. “They’re quite a group: some elves, humans, even a surface dwarf is in their ranks. I guess my kind is all the rage to have in a Company.” He face broke into an overly dashing smile as he puffed his chest out, with his hands on his hips.

Saliah laughed at his antics. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“He said he wanted to talk to the Herald directly to offer his services. He was pretty pissed that no one would really give him the time of day until I talked to him. I guess no one has told you until now?” Varric asked.

“No, but I’ll take this as my cue.” Saliah took one last slurp of her beer, finishing the serving. “Thanks for the chat, Varric.”

“Anytime, Beautiful.”

Saliah left the tavern and made her way to the blacksmith’s. As she walked through town, she marveled at how the late afternoon sun made the snow turn a bright shade of orange. _It is lovely here, isn't it,_ she thought to herself as she walked.  

As she approached the camp by the blacksmith's, she surveyed the group, looking for the Qunari. It wasn’t hard to find him. Sitting with his back against the outer wall of Haven, he was intently listening to something a younger human man was saying to him. He was, in a word, huge. He may have been the biggest person Saliah had ever encountered, and she realized she still hadn’t seen him stand. With a silver plated eyepatch over his left eye, The Iron Bull had a demanding presence. It was primal, but something about how he held his chin with his hand showed her that he was not a beast. This was someone trained and educated. Maybe not the way she was educated, but learned nonetheless. Saliah gathered her hair over her shoulder, blew the air out of her lungs, and closed in the band of people.

“I’m looking for the Iron Bull. I was told he was looking for me.” Saliah said casually as she approached.

“So, you’re the Herald I take it.” The huge man said as he stood; his Company members stood to greet her as well. Saliah was now certain she had never met anyone as enormous as this Qunari. Come to think of it, she was quite sure she had never actually met a Qunari in her life.

“That’s what they call me. I presume you’re the Iron Bull.” Saliah smiled as she responded. As she sized him up, it took everything in her not gawk. He was easily seven feet tall, with shoulders that seemed about as wide. Crowning his head was a huge set of horns that looked to be as thick as her head. His body was seemingly carved from granite; there wasn’t a poorly toned muscle on him. It was particularly apparent since the man wore no shirt and only a strange pauldron-like piece of armor that covered a portion of his sculpted pectoral muscles. A wide belt cinched his waste and held up colorful flowing pants. His face was riddled with hairline scars and a surprisingly thin beard. Equally surprising was his blue-grey eye—not only in color, but in how…approachable it made him. While commanding and intimidating, the Iron Bull seemed equally laid-back and friendly. _I suppose you can be when you’re his size_ , Saliah thought to herself.

“Yeah, that’s me. The horns usually give it away.” He motioned up to his head. “Have a seat, Herald. Drinks are coming.” The Bull smiled and motioned for her to sit next to him. His smile was disarmingly pleasant, as though he had no idea how intimidating he seemed (or did and just didn’t care).

“Drinks? We could go to the tavern if you’d like.” Saliah pointed in the direction from where she had just come.

The Bull bellowed a good-natured laugh. “Herald, what we’re drinking you won’t find in that tea room of yours.” He motioned for her to sit again.

Saliah cocked her eyebrow. _So it’s that kind of Company,_ she thought as she smiled. “Fair enough.” She said as she walked over and sat between the Qunari giant and the fresh-faced young man he to whom he was previously speaking. Saliah saw the surface dwarf Varric had mentioned and a human approach, rolling a keg of what she imagined was the liquor they’d be drinking.

“Ah, good! Hurry up—I’m thirsty.” The Bull called out to his men. Turning to Saliah, he motioned to the man sitting next to her. “This is Cremissius Aclassi, my lieutenant and second-in-command. He’s a ‘vint, but he’s alright.”

“Better a ‘vint than a half-cow bastard.” The lieutenant shot back with a whisper of a wry smile on his lips. Turning to Saliah, he offered his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Herald.” His tone was off, but Saliah couldn’t really put her finger on why.

“Saliah Trevelyan. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cremissius.” Saliah said shaking his hand.

“You can call me Krem, my lady Herald. My name’s a hell of a mouthful, to be honest.” He offered with a reserved smile.

Now that she was looking him square in the face, Saliah realized that this was no man: his features were too soft and the line in his neck was feminine. Despite his expensive-looking heavy armor and masculine posture, this was a woman, living as a man. Saliah had heard of folk like this over the years, people who lived as the opposite gender, saying that they had been born in the wrong body. She had never really been able to grasp the concept, but realized that it was probably because she knew she was unequivocally a woman. In her time with the tribe, she came to know tribe mates who preferred the company of the same sex, and it seemed as natural to her as her attraction to men. She had also encountered this in her father’s world in Ostwick, but it was much more salacious to live that way there. A controversy she always thought was stupid and myopic. But, she had never encountered anyone who lived as the opposite gender in person. And now that she meeting one for the first time, she realized that she didn’t care how Cremissius lived his life, only that he lived it in truth. At that moment, she also realized that she didn’t know if she should say that she had figured it out. She decided against it.

“Krem it is, then.” Saliah smiled as she responded, shaking his hand. Looking at both Krem and the Bull, Saliah started her business. “I understand you and your Company have come looking to work with the Inquisition.”

“We’ve heard about the work you’ve been doing in the region. Thought we could lend a hand. The Chargers are an excellent Company; you won’t find a better-trained group. We’re worth the price.” The Bull’s tone was full of pride for his subordinates. Saliah saw that he loved these men and women. “And, I’m sure the Inquisition can afford us.” He chuckled.

Saliah decided that she really liked this man’s cockiness, but she still had to understand what was at stake. “Are you really that good? That’s big talk for no show.” She asked, her tone only slightly mocking.

“The Chargers are an excellent Company.” The Bull repeated, his tone taking a protective growl. 

Just then, the two who brought the liquor passed out small steins of it to the group. Saliah sniffed her mug once she received it. It smelled like paint thinner. The Iron Bull silently motioned his glass to her and drank all of it at once. He quickly accepted another stein from the dwarf. She realized he was issuing her a challenge. Apparently, negotiations included whether or not she could keep her liquor. She took a deep swig of the strong spirit and held back the gagging burn.

“And how much would this cost me, exactly?” She replied, half gasping and half coughing.

Her reaction to the drink sent the Bull into a loud guffaw. He slapped her playfully on the back, causing her to choke a little. _Andraste’s ass, he’s strong!_ Saliah thought, realizing that this man might be able to take her down quite easily if she wasn’t careful. The sheer force of his clap on her back was still humming on her shoulder blade.

He was still laughing when he replied “it wouldn’t cost you anything, Herald, unless you’re buying drinks later.” He motioned his glass to her. “Your Ambassador… what’s her name, Josephine? We’d go through her and get the payments set up. The gold would take care of itself. Don’t you worry about that. All you need to worry about is that we’re worth it.” He chuckled, looked at his stein and took another deep swig of the caustic liquor.

“And what do I get for your pay?” Saliah asked in a hardened tone, holding the Bull’s gaze as she took a deceptively small swig.

“You’re not just getting the boys.” The Bull replied, leaning in to Saliah. “You’re getting me. You need a front line bodyguard, I’m your man. Whatever it is, demons, dragons… the bigger the better.” He leaned back against Haven’s outer wall, utterly cocksure of his and his team’s ability.

Saliah looked at her drink. The warmth of the liquor was radiating throughout her body. She felt it go to her head just a bit, but forced herself to keep her wits about her. Looking at the well-armored and well-outfitted troupe, she was pretty sure that the Iron Bull was telling her the truth. But, and maybe it was this booze talking, she felt like she needed to test to see if the purchase was worth it. She took another small swig of the drink and considered the offer. She saw that the whole troupe was looking at her. Looking to her side, she saw the Bull boring his one eye into her, awaiting her response.

“Well,” she said, leaning over herself and rolling the stein between her hands “I have to tell you, Iron Bull. If I am going to apply the Inquisition’s coffers to the Charger’s employment, I think I am going to need a demonstration of your team’s worth.”

“That’s fair.” The Bull shrugged and nodded his head in agreement. “How do you want to do this? Me and three of my guys against your best-trained troops?”

Saliah looked back over her shoulder and smiled. “No.”

“Then what?”

“You against me.” Saliah said as a matter of fact.

The Bull’s response was surprisingly stoic; Saliah admitted to herself that she expected him to laugh in her face. “You want to fight me, one-on-one?” He asked, not changing his lean against the outer wall.

“That’s what I said and those are the terms.”

“I admit I’ve heard rumor that the Herald is a fighter. Although, I don’t know much beyond that; most of the word about you is that you’re holy.” The Bull sat up, leaning into Saliah.

“Well, I suppose you’re going to find out.” Saliah leaned back into him. She felt her fight start to rise within her core. Her fingers tingled at the idea of taking on such a mountain of a man.

“Alright then, Herald. Where and when?” The Bull asked. Saliah was quite taken with the fact that there was no mockery in his tone. Quite the opposite, it continued to be pleasant and even. He had been issued a challenge, and he took it at face value—part of this contract’s negotiation. He didn’t care that she was a woman, or that he outsized her at least two-fold. She appreciated it greatly and it increased her desire to take this person head-on.

“Give me a few minutes to get my weapon and I will meet you in the training area.” Saliah replied calmly stating the terms of their engagement.

“I beat you and we’re hired, right?” The Bull clarified the terms.

“You and I go for a few rounds with no armor and I see if you’re as good as you say. No winners or loosers.” Saliah replied.

“Call it 15 minutes?” He asked.

“Very well, then.” Saliah replied. 

With that, she stood and nodded her head to the rest of the Chargers in departure, making a point not to look back and to ignore them. She quickly made her way back to her cabin. On her way there, she grabbed two big handfuls of snow. Once inside, she ran and put the snow into her washbasin and poured water into it. She quickly took off her tunic and breast strap and splashed the ice-cold water on her, careful to avoid her breeches. The water jarred appropriately, shocking any sense of drunkenness out of her. Eyeing her maul in the corner, Saliah walked over and grabbed it as she quickly dressed herself. Taking it by its holder, she strapped it to her back.

 _This will be good. He’s twice my size._  She thought to herself as she walked back out into the snowy town. Her fight was bubbling up to the surface, quickening her pace as she made her way to the training area. As she walked, she began to pull her hair into a topknot.

 

“The Herald is going to fight that Qunari!” Cullen heard someone say from across the way. He looked up from a report he was reading and saw many of the recruits hurrying over to one of the training rings. The runner who had brought him the missive seemed eager to be dismissed.

“My money’s on the Herald!” He saw Saliah’s standard-bearer say as he ran by. The boy had led them on most of their expeditions since she had joined the Inquisition. “I’ve seen her take down demons that were twice his size. And on fire!”

“You there, Selven!” Cullen called out to his personal runner. The boy was running by, but stopped and came to him. “What is this that the Herald is going to fight a Qunari?”

“Yes, my lord. They say the Lady Herald has said that if the Iron Bull can best her in sparring that she will hire his mercenary group.” Selven said breathlessly.

“Maker’s Breath.” Cullen said, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “And where is this occurring?”

“In the lower training ring, my Lord.” Selven was nearly dancing in place in his hurry to be dismissed.

“Alright, then. Away with you.” Cullen waved him away. Selven looked to him gratefully and scampered away.

 _She’s mad._ He thought to himself as he walked down to the field his assistant described. _She’s mad and reckless… Taking on a Qunari his size? Just how does she…_ as he was mentally chiding her, Cullen realized that he had never actually seen Saliah fight. Sure, he had seen her, Blackwall, and Cassandra train; but he had never actually seen her in an all-out fight. Given her reputed prowess, Cullen _tsk’d_ his tongue at himself for doubting her and continued on his way to the ring. _I must learn to trust her if I am going to work with her,_ he reminded himself. His protectiveness for her pulled at him, but he pushed it down and made his way through the growing crowd at the ring.

Once he had pushed his way to the front row, he found himself with Varric, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Sera. He nodded in salutation to all of them and saw that they all had bemused looks on their faces.

“This guy is going to get his ass handed to him, Curly. You’re in for a show.” Varric clapped his hand on Cullen’s lower shoulder blade. “Get him good, Sal!” He called to his friend.

“Indeed, I don’t think this Qunari thug knows what he’s in for.” Cassandra said dryly, pointedly studying her friend's opponent.

“Yeh! Get on it, your holy white-haired’ness!” Sera whooped to the center of the ring.

Blackwall simply chuckled at all of their commentary, his arms crossed as he looked on.

Looking to the center of the ring Cullen saw Saliah, with her maul strapped to her back and lacking any armor. He noticed her hair was in the same topknot he saw when he first met her. It made her facial tattoo and scar much more noticeable. He realized that it made her altogether intimidating to behold. Her face was not the usual soft and lovely one by which he had become so enrapt. The woman before him was pure warrior, her eyes steely and her jaw clenching. Her stature was balanced, ready to spring into action at any moment, despite her crossed arms and cocked shoulders. She was studying her opponent. He was beginning to understand what she meant by how the battle changed her. He had never been so taken with her, and he chided himself more for having doubted her in the first place.

Across from her he saw the huge, bare-chested Qunari with a similarly sized maul. Saliah’s ability to handle her own maul became crystalline to Cullen just then, seeing the mountain of a Qunari handle a weapon of similar size. The Iron Bull was the opposite of her stillness. He bounced his weight between his legs, slapping the maul into his left hand effortlessly. His eye was fixed on Saliah and nothing else. Behind him Cullen saw what he imagined was the Bull’s own Company, similarly whooping and hollering their support for their leader. Cullen let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You just going to stand there, Herald?” The Bull called out, goading his opponent.

“You just going to stand there and talk, Bull?” Saliah replied, a growl on her voice that Cullen had never heard.

Goaded, the Qunari charged Saliah with his head down, roaring the whole way across the ring. Saliah, seeing the approach, simply slid to the side and gave the Bull the full length of the ring. The choruses of laughter were deafening as the Bull missed her completely. He rounded back and grunted. Her reply was to dance back and curtsey mockingly at him, her head fully bowed.

Cullen sucked his breath when the Bull took the opportunity to connect his knee to her jaw as her head was in full bow. The hit sent his Lady flying across the ring, sprawling her back against the ground. The crowd fell silent, save for the Bull’s supporters. Cullen saw her followers ready to jump in, as did she. Saliah waved them off as she got up.

“Yeah, I deserved that.” She said as she stood up, spitting blood and wiggling her jaw. Looking at the Bull again, she hoisted her maul forth from its holder and held it.

“You’re awfully little to be carrying that.” The Bull called out mockingly.

“Come over here and find out just how little I am.” Saliah shouted back.

The pair circled one another, weapons drawn. Saliah was first to move this time. She was much faster than the Qunari. She twirled and ran to him and caught him by surprise, thrusting the head of her maul into his abdomen. The move knocked the Bull’s wind from him and pushed him back, and for a moment he was caught. Saliah spat blood on the ground in front of him and readied another blow. The Qunari dropped and rolled out of the way, and then stood, almost in the same motion, 5 feet away.

After that, both fighters became a flurry of movement and momentum. Cullen watched them parry with one another, their weapons’ shafts criss-crossing against each other, the knocks becoming increasingly hard to hear as the crowd roared. Alternately they would heave their maul at the other’s body, sometimes connecting with a shoulder, sometimes only hitting air. One hit from the Qunari seemed to connect with Saliah, but she moved with the hit and used its momentum to gracefully dance and swirl out of the man’s way. Her fast, half dance/half fight style frustrated her opponent. His direct and stronger way clearly concerned her, shown by the way she would avoid his hits. Cullen saw that this fight was very evenly matched, despite the size and style difference. Both opponents were incredibly well-trained.

 _This really is a show_ , Cullen thought, smiling and leaning against the fence. His smile dropped when a hit from the Bull connected with Saliah’s back, sending her sprawling face down about 15 feet away. She didn’t move. The Bull, certain in his triumph, held his maul over his head and yelled to the raucous crowd.

Cullen watched Saliah rouse, and in one motion was running at her opponent’s back. Before the Bull knew what hit him, she plunged the head of her maul into the ground and used its shaft to pole-vault herself onto his shoulders. With her groin in the back of his neck, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders and hooked her ankles behind his armpits, her abdomen still perpendicular to the ground. The next thing Cullen knew, Saliah hoisted her maul over herself and the Bull. With her maul now plunged in front of them both, Saliah used the leverage and her own weight to hoist the Bull over her and the maul, flinging the huge man over herself impossibly in the strangest somersault Cullen had ever seen. Letting go of her maul, Saliah screamed barbarically as she snapped the Bull over her head and slammed him and her self into the ground. The speed and momentum of the movement moved both bodies through the air in the blink of an eye.

The Iron Bull landed, blasting all of the air from his lungs with Saliah’s thighs pressing against his neck. He tried to get up, but Saliah pulled up and tightened her grip around his shoulders and upper back, causing him to growl in pain. Her lower body strength was pulling his shoulders back so much that the angle made Cullen cringe. Curled up around his head, between his horns, Cullen saw her face, twisted into a furious scowl, sit inches from the Bull’s. They bellowed at one another incoherently. Cullen found himself oddly jealous of the Bull’s current position. Both fighters were berserkers, caught in a moment of pure wild instinct. There was a sort of intimacy there, and he hated it.

“We’re done.” Saliah rumbled, at once disentangling herself from her opponent.

The two sat in the middle of the ring, unaware of the roar of cheers that surrounded them. After collecting herself, Cullen watched as Saliah stood up and pulled her hair out from the topknot. She walked over to her maul and picked it up, popping it back onto her back. At the same time, he watched the Bull get up and get out of fight mode in a similar fashion. Meeting again in the middle of the ring, the two clasped arms and smiled at each other. It was clear there were no hard feelings between the brawlers.

“What a fight! She’s something, eh Curly?” Varric exclaimed.

“Truly. Is that how she always fights?” Cullen asked, still looking at her.

“She doesn’t always do acrobatics, but yes. This is a good example of her on the field.” Cassandra jumped in. She smiled when she saw how Cullen looked at her friend. “She turns it on and off in a way I’ve never seen.”

“It’s remarkable.” Cullen breathed to no one in particular as the smallest smile wrinkled the scar on his lip. Realizing he had an audience, Cullen suddenly stiffened and cleared his throat. “It’s uh…” he cleared his throat again,  “we’re lucky to have such a fighter on the front line.” He finished without making eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

Seeing that the crowd wasn’t dispersing, Cullen took the opportunity to break the conversation with his friends. “Alright! Everyone get back to your duties! There’s nothing left to see.” He bellowed out to the crowd. His troops, seeing their Commander, immediately hurried away from the training ring. He turned to leave and looked over his shoulder at Saliah. She was laughing and comparing notes with her new found mercenary. He caught her eye, and she excitedly waved him over. Without thinking on it, he went into the ring.

“Bull, I present you to the Commander of the Inquisition’s Army, Ser Cullen Rutherford.” Saliah motioned from the Bull to Cullen. She moved closer to Cullen when she motioned to him, not noticing what she was doing.

“Well met, Commander.” The Bull offered his maw of a hand.

“Well met, indeed.” Cullen replied, shaking the mountain's hand. “You are quite a fighter, Iron Bull.”

“Not quite enough! Did you see that move?!” The Bull laughed as he motioned the somersault with his hands. Then he clapped Saliah on the shoulder. “That’s a hell of an abdomen!”

Saliah shrugged, waved her hand and laughed humbly. “So, I’ll talk to Josephine and have her assistants set up payment for the Chargers.” Saliah turned to Cullen, “Commander, I am going to employ the Chargers. I think they will serve as an excellent addition to the cause.” Saliah’s eyes were bright with excitement.

“I think that could work well. We can discuss their specific assignments at the next meeting.” Cullen replied.

“Glad to work with you both.” The Bull said pleasantly. “There’s one more thing that I should mention. Might be useful, might piss you off.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Saliah replied.

“Ever hear of the Ben Hassrath?” Bull asked them both.

As Saliah shook her head, Cullen replied “They are the equivalent of the Qunari’s guard and city watch, yes?”

“I’d say they’re closer to spies, but yeah that’s them. Or, well, that’s _us_ I should say.” The Bull said nonchalantly. Cullen’s face hardened as the Bull continued. “The Ben Hassrath are concerned about the breach. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere. I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports on what’s happening. I also get reports on what’s happening from other Ben Hassrath agents all over Orlais. You sign me on and I’ll share them with your people.”

“Wait, you’re a spy?” Saliah said incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“And you just told us?” Saliah continued.

“Look, whatever happened at that Conclave was bad. That breach needs to get closed. So, whatever I am, I’m on your side.” The Bull’s eye was fixed on Cullen as he finished his statement.

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “You could have still hidden what you are… why are you telling us?”

“Hide this from a group called the Inquistion?” The Bull chuckled. “I’d have been tipped sooner or later. Better you hear it right up front from me.”

“What would you send in these reports of yours?” Cullen asked.

“Enough to keep my superiors happy; nothing that would compromise your operations. The Qunari want to know if they need to launch an invasion to keep the whole damn world from falling apart. You let me send some word of what you’re doing and it’ll set their minds at ease. It’ll be good for everyone.” The Bull said.

Cullen looked to Saliah, his face stone. Wordlessly, he motioned to her for her thoughts. She looked back at him for a moment. 

Saliah looked from the Commander to the Iron Bull and stepped close to him. “You run those reports past Leliana before sending them. Do not send anything that she doesn’t approve.”

“I can agree to that.” The Bull replied amicably.

Cullen saw Saliah’s face become intense and solemn. Keeping the Bull in her gaze she dropped her voice and continued. “If this turns out to be a trick, Bull, I will end you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He replied to her with the same intensity.

“Good! Then we agree.” She said. “I’ll go and let Josephine and Leliana know.” Saliah nodded her head to both of them and left. Cullen knew the suddenness of her departure was due to the Bull's admission. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. 

Glancing down to the Commander the Bull smiled. “She’s a hell of a woman.”

“Indeed.” Cullen replied quietly, watching her leave.

Crossing his arms, the Bull smiled wider. “I don’t blame you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Cullen looked up at him.

“Oh come on, Commander. I mean, sure, I’m a trained spy.” The Bull laughed out loud. “But you don’t have to be to see how much you care for her. And I’ve been around the two of you for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Iron Bull.” Cullen was very annoyed at this creature’s sudden familiarity with him.

“Yeah, sure.” The Bull pulled his arms over his head and stretched. “First, it’s _The_ Iron Bull. Or, just Bull.” He finished his stretch and started to walk away, “and second: for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she feels the same. You don’t need two eyes to see that.” The Bull stopped his walk, picked up his maul and casually heaved it to his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked back across the training area to his Company’s encampment.

Cullen tried to wipe the grin off of his face as he turned to go back to his duties. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep a straight face for the better part of the next hour.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I decided to start this story, one of the changes I knew from the get-go was how Bull came to the party. I felt like his inclusion felt a little shoe-horned in. So, I changed it ;)


	8. Hey Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fraternal truths abounding.  
> ***Thanks for the continued notes and comments! They've been fueling me to write more and write better.***
> 
> *****Y'all are the bestest*****

In the absence of further correspondence from First Enchanter Fiona and the Rebel Mages, Saliah found herself on the road again on smaller engagements. Saliah went about Hinterlands on small day trips with the instruction to gather more recruits and to close new fade rifts that had been identified. While she was happy to continue helping the cause, the First Enchanter’s silence was troubling. _She was so eager to get our help,_ Saliah thought to herself as she led the Company along the path back to Haven. Turning in her saddle, Saliah motioned to Cassandra to ride with her. Cassandra responded by hurrying her horse.

“Still nothing from the Mages?” Saliah asked, referencing Josephine’s latest report from earlier that afternoon.

“No, Herald, Josephine says that there is no word from them.” Cassandra’s tone when she said ‘Herald’ reminded Saliah of when she called her ‘Prisoner’ all those months before. It wasn’t with a sense of cruelty that she said it Saliah acknowledged, it was more with a sense of dispassionate neutrality. Cassandra slowed her horse and retreated back to the middle of the riding pack.

Only more troubling than the First Enchanter’s silence was the stonewalling from Cassandra. Saliah’s sister-in-arms had become nearly non-verbal in the weeks since she revealed her heritage to the Seeker and the rest of the Advisors. While Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine had moved past her confession, Saliah worried that the breach in trust with Cassandra was irreparable. She was alternately remorseful and resentful of her friend’s silence. While diplomatic and polite (as much as Cassandra was either), the rift between them was almost as palpable as the magical ones she encountered on a seemingly daily basis.  

During a council meeting the day after their return from an excursion, Leliana requested that Saliah and her Company make plans to set out to the Storm Coast to investigate rumors of Grey Warden sightings. Knowing how unsettled she was at the Order’s absence, Saliah agreed to go.

“And what if the Mages contact us, Ambassador? I don’t want to keep them waiting too long.” Saliah asked after agreeing to the errand.

“We will send word to you immediately. The coast is not far, my Lady Herald. It is a day’s ride if the weather cooperates.” Josephine said reassuringly.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, Herald,” Cullen offered, “but we may be at the point where we have to approach the Order as an alternative.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Saliah sighed. The topic of the Templars was the one thing she and Cullen could not move past. “But, you’re right. At some point we will have to consider alternatives. Who knows how long the Breach will truly remain stable. How many of your contacts responded, Commander?”

“We’ve received several former Templars, and more are coming everyday. But, we do not have enough to suppress the Breach in the way you would need, from my understanding. For that, we would need many more.” Cullen replied. Saliah saw that he was pleased that she agreed with him, in a fashion. “Are you concerned about it? The Breach’s stability?” Cullen did not hide his concern for her statement as he looked down to her hand.

“No, Solas believes that it will remain in this stasis until something…” Saliah tried to find the word as she rolled her fingers in her branded hand. “Activates it, I suppose is the word? I’m afraid that I don’t really understand its inner workings well at all. If you like, Commander, I can ask Solas to enlighten us all on the matter.” Saliah had become very careful to call him and the others by their titles while in the war room. In the room, she felt they made decisions as their positions required, not as the colleagues and friends they had become. She believed that on some level they had all come to that conclusion without discussion.

“No, Herald. That’s quite all right. If he believes it’s stable, then we should follow his lead on the matter. That’s not to say we should wait around forever, however.” Cullen replied.

“What if we don’t wait for further correspondence from Redcliffe? What if we just show up and seek out the First Enchanter?” Saliah asked the group.

“I would strongly advise against it.” Cullen said, with more force than Saliah expected. “We do not know what you would be walking into, my lady.”

Saliah nodded her head, considering what he said. “Still,” she countered, “it could be a last resort.”

“Yes, it could be. But I have to agree with the Commander. It is quite risky.” Josephine replied. Leliana looked as though she was going to say something, but instead nodded her head in agreement with the Ambassador.

“Well, alright. For now, we will go to the coast and investigate these sightings.” Saliah concluded.

They all agreed she and her companions would depart at first light and ended the meeting. Cassandra was the first to walk out of the war room. Saliah shook her head as the woman left. Saliah was very aware of Leliana as the woman walked up behind her.

“She is still not speaking to you.” Leliana observed.

“No. I’m at a point where I don’t know what to do with her.” Saliah said, looking at where Cassandra walked out.

“Give her time, Saliah. Cassandra is slow to trust to begin with, and she is of those who have spent the most time with you.”

“I know and I understand why she’s upset, Leliana. But, I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Perhaps you should talk to her about your brother.” Leliana said, hanging a bit on the word ‘brother’.

Saliah looked over her shoulder at the Spymaster, trying to decipher what the woman was saying to her. Leliana smiled at her enigmatically, patted her back, and walked out of the room.

The next morning, Saliah and her Company readied themselves for the trip north to the Storm Coast. As she was packing her horse, she saw Cullen sauntering up to her group. In the dawn light, Saliah noticed that his armor looked newly buffed and polished. _Ah,_ she thought with a smile, _it must be Tuesday._  She was mildly pleased with herself that she had picked up on his habit. It made him seem all the more debonair and official. As he approached, he waved a greeting and a smiled warmly to her. Saliah waved in return. She had become accustomed to his send offs. It seemed that for every departure, be it for a day or for a week, he was always there with quiet words of encouragement and guidance. She admitted that she looked forward to this ritual; it afforded her additional time with this man she had become so fond of.

“Good morning, Cullen!” She said brightly as he neared her. “You’re looking well.” She motioned to his armor.

“Ah, yes, well,” Cullen stammered quietly. “I tend to it weekly.” Saliah giggled as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, unsure how to take her compliment.

“Well, I am glad you do it. It makes you look quite dashing!” Saliah flushed as she heard herself openly flirt with the Commander. “N-n-not that you don’t normally…look, uh…” Saliah cleared her throat and quickly turned to focus on her horse. She heard the Commander take his turn to laugh quietly at her awkwardness.

“I trust you’re fully informed on where the Wardens were last seen?” Cullen asked her. She turned to find him smiling at her, his eyes twinkling in amusement at her rare moment of awkwardness.

“Leliana gave us the reports last night. The advance team is waiting for us with more information.” Cassandra responded for her, walking by. She didn’t stop to continue the conversation. The pair watched her go to her horse. Normally, Saliah would have responded with a playful jab about stealing her line. Now, she just watched her pack her mount.

Cullen stepped in closer to Saliah. “She’s still not talking to you, I see.” He dropped his voice in an attempt for privacy and referencing their previous conversations about Cassandra. Saliah was very aware of how close he was to her. She found herself equal parts unnerved and delighted by his proximity. Over the course of the last few weeks, their friendship had truly grown. She enjoyed his company more than she thought she could enjoy anyone’s company.

While their conversations centered on Inquisition matters primarily, they were interlaced with enough jokes and anecdotes from their lives that she felt a bond form between Cullen and herself. While he was focused and serious when discussing official matters, Saliah discovered that Cullen possessed a delightfully dry sense of humor and a very sharp mind. Once they had moved past his shyness, she discovered a person with whom she had much in common, despite their age difference. Over many meals with him and the troops and many nights at the tavern with her close friends, she saw him equally as the Commander and as Cullen. She respected and admired both sides of him equally. She trusted him, but she knew that he held back. But, she didn’t begrudge him his secrecy and questioned whether she should trust him as she did. She found that she really couldn’t help herself.

“No, sadly.” Saliah replied shaking her head and looking up at him. “Leliana suggested I talk to her about Ed, for whatever good that will do me.” Saliah saw Cullen’s face change, going from intent on her to far away.

“Hmm.” He nodded, absentmindedly petting her horse’s neck. Her mount nickered and shifted at the attention. “I’m not sure why she would suggest that. But, as we all know, Leliana knows and sees more than any of us put together.” He looked to her and smiled softly, “she is a complicated one, our lady Seeker. But I’m sure you’ll get through to her, Saliah.”

“Thanks, Cullen.” She smiled back and patted his arm, not knowing what to do with herself. She turned and mounted her horse.

“Enjoy the coast!” He called out to the Company, stepping back to survey all of them. “Try to stay dry.” He finished sarcastically.

“Thanks, Curly.” Varric said acidly.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. Quit your bitching.” The Iron Bull said to Varric as he rode up on his huge, black draft horse.

Saliah smiled at her companions, shaking her head in amusement. Looking to the Company and the Chargers, she motioned to head out. Looking back, she waved to the Commander. He was standing with a quiet look on his face and his arms behind his back, watching them leave. The sun had just started to break over the mountain range, making his hair seem like lit gold and his red mantle shine like fire. Seeing him ablaze and beautiful made her heart skip a beat.

 _Maker help me._ Saliah smiled as she turned to lead her troops.

 

When they arrived to the coast, the advance team showed Saliah a huge swath of land on a map. On it, there were four distinct areas showing where the scouts believed the Wardens were camping. Looking at the map as she leaned over it, Saliah was confident it would take at least a week to cover the expanse of land, assuming they didn’t run into any unexpected fade rifts. Walking over to her, Bull surveyed the map.

“Boss,” he began, “why don’t me and the Chargers take this region here.” He motioned to the southern region. “You and your team can take this central region.” He looked to her for her response. Saliah enjoyed the pet name and title he had for her. The Iron Bull and his Chargers had become quite a boon to Saliah’s efforts, if only because they helped cover more ground in less time. Despite their unusual start, the Bull had proven himself honest to his contract and evidently trustworthy. His frank approach was refreshing. He was no-nonsense and, like her, led from the front.

She straightened up and looked at him. “Alright, that seems like a plan. Meet back here in two days?”

“Works for me.” He turned to his troupe. “Chargers! Get ready to move in 15!” He turned back to her, “we’ll save you some Vat 57, Boss.” He said, referring to the vile liquor that they drank regularly. “See you in a few days.” He smiled as he took his leave.

“I feel like you need a name for us, too.” Varric said, walking up to her. “What about…”

“The Herald’s hoppers?” Saliah offered.

“Beautiful, if you call us that, then I quit.” Varric smiled at her. Saliah swatted him on the shoulder.

“Regardless of what I call us, get ready to move in 15.” She replied with a smirk.

Over the next few days, Saliah and her group traversed the Storm Coast’s lush and rocky landscapes looking for any sign of the Wardens. Coming up on the second suspected camp at the top of a rocky cliff, Saliah was hopeful they would find someone. What they found was another abruptly abandoned collection of things, including a small banner with the Warden’s insignia on it.

“Andraste’s over-sexed tits.” Saliah hissed as she crouched over the makeshift fire pit. She held her hand over the burnt out logs. They were well and cold. Cassandra and Blackwall looked on silently. Solas looked around the camp, scanning it for any semblance of magic foul play, as he did with the previous camp they found the day before. They were all silent for a moment, contemplating the meaning of another abandoned Grey Warden camp.

“This is interesting. Hey, Saliah, take a look at this.” Varric called over, breaking the silence. Saliah stood up and walked over to the dwarf. She found him crouched over a sleeping bag that was damp from the constant sea air, holding a small leather-bound book. “The dreams were worse last night,” Varric read from the journal aloud. “Another day with that tune.” He looked up at Saliah. “That’s the last entry.” He finished, closing the book as he said it.

“Is it dated?” Saliah asked. Varric shook his head in response as he handed her the book. Turning to Blackwall, Saliah held it up and asked, “does this mean anything to you, Blackwall?”

“None.” He responded solemnly. His face was stone. Saliah was slightly surprised that he wasn’t more upset at his group’s continued absence.

Saliah shook her head, throwing her hands to her hips. _This makes no sense! Where the fuck are they?_ She asked herself. She was visibly frustrated by the lack of information. She looked up to the horizon. She could see the ocean in the distance, realizing this was the closest to her father’s home she’d been in several months. Pushing the thought from her mind, she resolved to head back to camp and meet up with Bull.

“We should head back to the lead camp and rendezvous with the Chargers. Perhaps they have had better luck. There is no evidence of foul play here. Like with the other camp, this group left with no tragedy.” Solas offered. Nodding her head, Saliah motioned for them to follow her as she left.

Saliah found no comfort when they met back with their colleagues later that day. Bull told her what they found, which was obnoxiously familiar. They all agreed to stand down for the night and discuss options the next morning.

That night after dinner, Saliah saw Cassandra standing away from camp, looking down onto the beach below their bluff. Before she realized what she was doing, she walked over to meet her estranged friend.

“His name was Edwin.” Saliah began, remembering Leliana’s advice as she stepped up next to the Seeker.

“I’m sorry?” Cassandra replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the ocean.

“My brother, his name was Edwin.” Saliah said turning to her. She saw that Cassandra’s face hardened slightly at her explanation. Saliah sighed sharply, annoyed. “Cassandra, I’ve already apologized to you for not telling you about my kin sooner. It was weeks ago. Why are you still so angry with me?”

“I…I am not angry with you, Saliah.” Cassandra said in the softest tone Saliah had ever heard come out of her. “I am ashamed of myself.”

“Huh?” Saliah squeaked, bewildered at the confession.

Cassandra sighed and turned to face her. “I also had a brother who died. Anthony…” She swallowed hard. Saliah saw the familiar look of a permanently broken heart. “He was older. I idolized him. He…” she swallowed again, “was a dragon hunter. I wanted nothing more than to be like him and hunt with him. He and I would practice in secret and he would take me with him when he scouted. When I was young, I knew my path was at his side, hunting the ancient beasts of old as brother and sister.”

“And then, he died on me.” Cassandra said hollowly.

“Holy Maker, Cassandra. That’s really awful.” Saliah said quietly.

“It was the end of everything I knew.” She replied. Saliah nodded her head knowingly as her friend continued. “We were out in the fields near our home, training. A group of apostates approached us, demanding that he hunt a dragon down for its blood. He refused.” Cassandra paused, taking a deep breath. Saliah could see her eyes glassing over with tears as she relived her memory. “They killed him, right in front of me. I raised my sword to attack them, but they knocked me out and escaped.”

“I’m so sorry.” Saliah whispered, pulling her friend in and embracing her. Cassandra stood frozen, weeping quietly into Saliah’s shoulder.

“For years after, I hated mages and begged the local chantry to let me become a Templar.” Cassandra pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Instead, they made me a Seeker. It took me a long time to move beyond my own rage.”

“Were you ashamed that you never told me about him?” Saliah asked. “Because, that’s no reason to be ashamed.”

“No.” Cassandra looked back over the ocean. “I was ashamed to have called your brother an apostate. I was saying it pejoratively; in anger that you kept your secret from me. If anyone had done that to Anthony’s memory, I don’t know what I would do…”

“So, you stopped talking to me because… Cassandra,” Saliah smiled. “My friend, I didn’t even remember that you had called him that.”

“You’re not angry?” Cassandra asked.

“Well, I’m not thrilled that you used the term. But, no, I’m not angry. That was an odd day for all of us.” 

“I’m glad.” Cassandra smiled a small smile of relief.

“Cassandra, you are my sister-in-battle. I, quite literally, would not be standing here if it weren’t for you. It’s going to take a lot more than words said in anger to get me to believe you are anything less.” Saliah was surprised at her own admission to her friend. She looked to her and smiled at the continued relief she saw.

Saliah clapped her on the shoulder and held her hand there. “Cassandra, you and Varric are my closest friends in all of this mess. I can’t do this without you.”

“Well, I don’t understand your fondness for the imp.” Cassandra said dryly. “But, I admit, you have become a good friend to me as well, Saliah. I am relieved to put this behind us.” She held Saliah’s gaze for a moment. “May I ask you how Edwin died?”

Saliah was stopped by the question. She looked down to her feet as she replied, “I don’t know. All we were told was that he died in an altercation at his circle. The Order,” she spat the word out, “refused to give us any details. It was a complicated time…with the Blight and all.”

“I see… I’m sorry.” The way Cassandra apologized seemed weighted, as though she were apologizing for all the things that had transpired and not just in condolence for Saliah’s ignorance. Saliah was grateful for her empathy, and even more grateful that they were talking again.

Saliah wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders. The two stood quietly, looking at the ocean. The night was clear and the moon was full.

“My lady Herald! A message for you from the Commander.” A scout approached the camp, marking the end of their peace making.

“I’ll take it.” Saliah motioned for the messenger from the camp’s edge. He ran over and handed her the parchment. Saliah unrolled it and read it, holding it between her and the Seeker.

_Please return at once. We have new intelligence on what may be with your less favored alternative. Redstone Veins. Bianca will know. Travel well, my Lady. – Cullen_

Saliah smiled quickly at his term for her, despite the troubling news. “Redstone Veins?” She asked as she looked to Cassandra.

“Did you just say what I think you did?” Varric said suddenly before Cassandra could answer. Saliah looked over to him as he stood up and hurried over. “Let me see that.” Saliah handed it to Varric. A look of dread came over her friend’s face.

“What do you know, Varric?” Cassandra asked.

“I know that this shit,” he said, pointing to the words _Redstone Veins_ , “is bad shit. He means Red Lyrium. I’m sure of it, especially since he’s talking about the Templars and saying that I’ll know. I ran into it in Kirkwall. A small chunk of it drove my brother mad. It’s also what drove Cullen’s old boss crazy.”

“Knight Commander Meredith…yes, that’s right.” Cassandra added.

“Yeah. She’s petrified in a chunk of it, now.” Varric spat the words out. “If this is what’s got the Order acting strange,” Varric’s grimaced, “then we’ve got problems.”

“Red Lyruim? I didn’t realize that the poison came in different flavors.” Saliah commented acerbically.

Saliah looked at the two of them and then back to the rest of the camp. She sighed, knowing she would be asking her troops to ride through the night. If it was enough to get her usually level-headed companion riled up, she knew they should hurry.

“Alright everybody!” Saliah called out. “We break camp and make back to Haven. Be ready to go in 10 minutes.” The camp became a flurry of movement as she finished the command.

When they arrived back in Haven several hours later, they found the town asleep, save for the night watch. It was the middle of the night.

“Tell the Commander that we’ve returned.” Saliah heard Cassandra say quietly to one of the watchmen.

Saliah led her horse to the stable, hushing the stable boy as he stirred from his sleep. She was finished un-tacking her horse when she heard Cullen approach outside, greeting the group quietly.

“You’ve returned in haste. Thank you for riding through the night.” Cullen said as she walked outside. He was wearing the heavy cloak he used when not in his armor. His hair was tousled. Clearly he had been asleep. She felt a pang of guilt for waking him. Saliah had picked up on the fact that he did not find sleep easily.

“Yes, we got your note and came as soon as we could.” Saliah said, nodding her head in greeting. “What’s this about Red Lyrium?”

“There’s a bit of a story to all of this. Let’s meet in the war room first thing and I will tell you everything.” Cullen stifled a yawn as he spoke.

“Alright, then.” Saliah stretched, suddenly very sleepy. “First thing in the morning.” She waved to her group and made her way to her cabin, picking up her pack as she left.

 

“Good Morning, Saliah.” Leliana said as Saliah entered the war room early the next morning. Leliana looked to Cassandra and back to her, smiling. Saliah knew Cassandra had told her that they had made amends.

“Good Morning, Leliana.” Saliah responded, cocking her eyebrow. While Josephine and Cassandra were there, Cullen had not joined them yet.

“Did you find anything useful?” Josephine asked, looking up from her writing deskette. As usual, Josephine was dressed impeccably. Saliah wondered how in she managed to have such fine clothes in a place as simple as Haven.

Saliah shook her head in response, furrowing her brow. “No. All we found were empty campsites and a journal.” She motioned to the book in her hand, and then handed it to the Spymaster.

“Interesting…” Leliana said as she thumbed through the pages. “Did Blackwall have any insight to offer?”

“None.” Saliah said, flatly. As she was about to say something else, Cullen walked in. Saliah smiled openly at him. “Good Morning, Commander.” She said.

“Good Morning.” He responded. “Thank you again for coming back so quickly.” He said, looking to Saliah and Cassandra. “We received some very concerning news.”

“Yes, so you said. Please tell us.” Cassandra replied.

“Two days ago, a small group of Templars joined us. They were led by a Knight Lieutenant named Patric.” Cullen began. “When they came to Haven, he told me that they had left a battalion of Templars who were heading southeast of Denerim. When I pressed him as to why he had left them, he told me it was because they were transporting a cargo of Red Lyrium. He said that most of the battalion was behaving very oddly, and seemed to be under the effects of it.” Cullen’s voice became very heavy as he finished.

“So, this could explain why the Order has gone awry.” Cassandra said. Her eyebrows were knitted together as she brought her hand up to hold her chin. She stared absently at the battle map that was littered with movement pieces.

“Yes, but we still do not know how they are getting it, or who is leading them.” Leliana responded. “Nor do we know where they are headed with any certainty. I can’t imagine that they are headed to Therinfal Redoubt.” The group fell silent at the whisper of the accusation that this could be something that the Order was endorsing.

“So, we all know that I am not a fan of lyrium to begin with.” Saliah began, “but why is the red type such an issue?”

“Because of what it does to those that are exposed to it.” Cullen responded. Saliah saw him tighten his usually lazy hands on his sword’s pommel. “It… is tainted, supposedly by darkspawn essence. Those who are exposed to it for any length of time are driven mad.”

“I see.” Saliah dropped the topic, remembering what Varric had said it did to Cullen’s former Knight Commander. Looking to him, she saw that she was right to do so. Cullen seemed very unnerved.

“This is most troubling…” Josephine said to no one in particular.

Saliah looked around the room and realized that she had never seen the advisors so put out. She knew she needed to steer them somewhere, or this conversation was going to become a merry-go-round of speculation. She had a sense that they were quickly running out of time and options. To what end game, however, she did not know. All she knew for certain was that the breach still needed closing and there were several strange things happening at once, between the utter disappearance of the Wardens and now the Templar’s strange new addiction.

“Alright, then. I think we know the way forward.” Saliah said to the group. “Sister Leliana, let’s send your fastest agents out this morning to Redcliffe and give them a chance to scout the area and gather intelligence. I think we are out of time to wait on an invitation to meet with the First Enchanter. Seeker, you and I will go with our team tomorrow and meet with the First Enchanter to discuss the mage’s involvement in closing the Breach. Commander, begin readying what former Templars you have to see how we can capitalize on their presence. We will need to make it clear to them that they are members of the Inquisition now, not the Chantry’s magical watchdogs.” She was firm with her last statement.

“Herald, I do not recommend that you go to Redcliffe uninformed and unannounced.” Cullen responded. “We do not know what you will be walking into.”

“Yes, that’s why we have the agents going ahead so they can warn me when we arrive tomorrow afternoon.” Saliah countered. “We are out of time and options. This is the option.” Mentally, Saliah readied herself for another rolling argument with her Commander.

“The Herald has a point.” Cassandra said, as she walked over to Saliah’s side. “We will need the mage’s assistance, especially now since it seems that the Templars seem even less of an option.”

“I see the two of you made peace.” Cullen said dryly, annoyed at Saliah’s recklessness and Cassandra’s endorsement.

“I see no other way, Commander.” Josephine commented.

“I will send out the agents immediately.” Leliana agreed.

Cullen leaned over the massive oak table, not breaking sight with Saliah. “Alright, then. But if you get even a whisper of trouble, you are to disengage and report back here at once. That is an order.”

“Yes, Ser.” Saliah responded respectfully. “If it’s all the same to you, Commander, I would like to speak with this Knight Captain in person.” Saliah said.

“That’s fine.” Cullen said. Saliah saw him rub his neck. She knew he didn’t like her going, and she was relieved that he wasn’t going to fight her on this.

 

Cullen and Saliah walked through the town together, towards the camp. Saliah was worried that his silence was in anger. She absent-mindedly greeted well-wishers as they passed down the village’s main path.

“How was the expedition on the Storm Coast?” He asked suddenly, in a pleasant tone.

“Wet and fruitless. All we found were abandoned camps and a nonsensical journal.” Saliah said, furrowing her brow.

“Well, not completely fruitless.” Cullen smiled, looking over to her as they walked. He motioned his head back to the temple. “You and Cassandra seemed to have made peace.”

“Yes, that is all settled.” Saliah smiled to him.

“Why was she so angry with you?”

“She wasn’t angry as it would turn out. She… well, it was a misunderstanding and we sorted it out.” Saliah decided not to share the details of it with Cullen. She wasn’t sure if he knew about Anthony. In that decision, Saliah realized that she did not like keeping things from him.

“Oh?” Cullen asked, and then realized that he wasn’t getting details. “Well, whatever it was, I am glad you worked it out. I have to admit that I didn’t like seeing you upset.” His face flushed at the comment. Saliah stifled a giggle. She wondered why he would feel so awkward with her at times, seeing as how easily they got on.

They arrived to the tent that housed who she supposed was the Knight Lieutenant. She saw a man who seemed a bit younger than Cullen. He and his men, who seemed about her age, were sitting around a campfire.

“Knight Captain Cullen!” The man exclaimed as stood up to greet them. He was a lean man, about Saliah’s height. He was an unremarkable person with thin, mousey brown hair and big, doe-like brown eyes. He seemed especially unremarkable in comparison to Cullen. _How is this man an officer?_ Saliah thought, realizing she was being just a bit catty.

“I no longer hold that title, Patric. I’ve told you that already.” Cullen had a pained tone to his voice when he said it. Saliah was startled to hear Cullen’s Templar title. She bristled slightly as she remembered that he was a former member of the Order she resented so deeply.

“Of course, forgive me… Commander, Ser. Force of habit.” He apologized. He looked to Saliah, eyeing her for a long moment. Catching sight of the green light blinking from between the fingers on her left hand, he stiffened his back and saluted her. “You must be the Herald of Andraste! It is an honor my lady.”

“That’s what they call me.” Saliah responded evenly. “Thank you for your dedication, Patric.”

“Knight Lieutenant—” he began to correct her in a haughty tone.

“Not if you are serving in his army.” Saliah cut him off in a hard but pleasant tone, motioning to Cullen. She saw Cullen hide a smile as she said it.

“Of course, my lady Herald. We’ve only been here a few days. I’m sure you can understand.” He bowed again, seeming genuinely sorry for his indiscretion.

“I do, and it’s alright. It takes a bit to adjust to…well, all of this.” She motioned around her. “The Commander informs me that you found a rather unnerving situation that led you to come here.”

“Yes, my lady.” Patric responded, his face very solemn.

“Would you enlighten me, please?” Saliah shifted her weight and crossed her arms as she asked.

“My men and I were in eastern Orlais when we received a message from a Templar runner to meet a large battalion gathering in Ferelden. Having heard what had transpired in Val Royeaux with the Lord Seeker, we suspected it was a summons to head to Therinfal.” The man stopped suddenly, and looked to Cullen. “I’m sorry. Commander, why am I sharing this?”

“Because she needs all the information she sees fit to receive in order to close _that._ ” Cullen responded in a harsh tone and pointed to the Breach. “You will tell her everything you shared with me, and anything else that comes to mind.” While she kept her face still, Saliah’s stomach was alight with butterflies as she watched him put the man in his place.

Patric looked to the two of them, breathed deeply and continued slowly. “When we arrived near the location, we saw...” Saliah saw his face drop and his eyes widen. “We saw a large group of our brethren. But, they seemed strange. A red glow emanated from them, and they were actively guarding a pile of what looked like raw lyrium…only it was red. Blood red. I knew something was wrong and feared for my men. I had heard that the Knight Cap—that the former Knight Captain Cullen had left the Order to join the Inquisition and was looking for allies from the Order to join its army. Between this strangeness and all the chaos caused by rebel Templars in the rebellion, I decided to bring my men here to see if we could help end this madness.” As he finished he looked between Saliah and Cullen. Saliah looked at the man.

“And why should I, or the Commander, believe anything that you are saying?” Saliah asked plainly.

“My Lady, Patric and I have known one another for many years. I trust him implicitly. He is not one to lie.” Cullen replied, gesturing to the man.

“You served together in Kirkwall, then?” Saliah asked, casually making conversation.

“Oh no, my lady.” Patric responded with a strange tone. She saw Cullen’s face fall inexplicably, out of the corner of her eye. “The Commander and I served our first assignment together in a circle in Ferelden, at Kinloch Hold. It’s a circle—”

“—on the shores of Lake Calenhad.” Saliah finished hollowly, turning her head and openly staring at Cullen.

“…yes, my lady. We served there several years ago, just before the beginning of the Fifth Blight.” Patric looked at her staring at the Commander.

 _What is this? What…I…WHAT?!_ Saliah screamed to herself, not believing what she heard. It took everything within her not to scream her question at Cullen. Turning to the new recruit, Saliah composed herself. “Thank you for your information, ser. It will be most beneficial.” Saliah turned to start walking away. She stopped and looked at the confused man. “Please excuse me.” She saw Cullen give her a look that was both stoic and pleading.

As she made her way back to the village proper, Saliah walked in a thunderstruck haze. _Cullen was at Kinloch? Why didn’t he tell me? Did he know Ed? He must have! How big are circles? Don’t they all know each other? Wasn’t it his job to know all the mages, all of his prison charges? Is that why he didn’t mention it, because he didn’t know? Or did he, and that’s why he gets a look every time I mention him? Maker…did he kill…_ Saliah didn’t let herself finish her last thought. More questions, hundreds of questions swirled in her head as she mindlessly walked to her cabin. “I need to lie down,” she said to herself as she opened the door to the empty room. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly nauseous.

 

“Hey, ‘Sal, you sure you’re ok?” The Bull asked her as she quietly stared at her beer stein. “You… well, I mean, I kicked you ass like four times in the training ring earlier.”

Saliah rolled her eyes at the multiple questions about her well-being. She had come to the tavern with Bull and Varric after they trained later that same afternoon. They had been there for a number of hours. Saliah just quietly sat and drank her beers, listening to Varric and Bull swap stories from their past, and theories on the Grey Wardens they didn’t find on the Storm Coast. She chimed in at times and chuckled at others, but she was noticeably distracted.

“Bull, I promise I’m fine.” Saliah replied.

“Lady problems?” The Bull pushed her, smiling.

 _If only,_ Saliah thought _._ “No, I… I guess the midnight ride back yesterday into today just took more out of me than I thought it would.” She shrugged and took a deep gulp from her stein. Seeing it was empty, she motioned to the barkeep for another.

“Beautiful, I gotta agree with Tiny. You look really out of it.” Varric chimed in. She looked at him and saw his ruggedly handsome face wrinkled with worry.

“Varric, I’m fine. I promise.” She said unconvincingly.

Just as her new beer arrived, she saw Cullen walk into the tavern, out of his armor. He scanned the room, his face falling as he made eye contact with her. She wanted nothing more than to be away from him at the moment. She was still too confused at what had transpired. Saliah quickly drank her new beer in two gulps and turned to her companions. “We have an early day tomorrow to Redcliffe. I’m going to go to sleep. I’ll meet you at the horses at dawn.” Saliah said as she pulled coins out of her pocket and put her share of the tab on the bar. She abruptly got up and walked toward the door. Cullen and she locked eyes as she walked out.

Varric saw the interaction. He then saw Cullen take a few steps towards him and the Bull, scowl his face, and then abruptly turn around and leave. “What do you suppose that’s about?” Varric asked his drinking buddy.

The Bull looked over his shoulder, then at Varric and shrugged. “I have no idea. But maybe they’ll finally fuck and get it over with.”

They both sniggered, half drunk, into their beers and toasted each other.

 

Cullen walked out of the bar, looking to see where Saliah had gone. _Damn you and your mouth, Patric!_ He cursed the fellow veteran as he jogged down the path. He came to the entrance of the outer wall and saw her, walking down the path towards the lake.

When he approached the lakeshore where she stood, she didn’t acknowledge him. He stood next to her and stared out over the lake. After about 15 minutes of silence, Saliah shifted her weight. Cullen, in turn, rubbed the back of his neck. For whatever reason, she scowled when he did that.

“Cullen, I need you to be very honest with me.” Saliah said quietly, clearly working hard to control her tone.

“Alright.” Cullen knew what was coming. His head began to pound. He was thankful that he had brought some pain tonics with him. He pulled a vial out of his cloak pocket and took it.

“Cullen, did you know Edwin?” Saliah asked after another long silence.

Cullen sighed. “Yes, I did.” The boy’s face was searing into his mind. He prayed for the pain tonic to take effect. He knew he needed to be fully present for this, or he might loose her.

“For how long have you known that I am his sister?” She asked, still looking far away and not facing him.

Cullen hung his head and crossed his arms. “Since the day I met you in the war room, after you woke up. After you attempted to close the Breach.” He said calmly and quietly. He looked up to look at her. He found her facing him fully, her face smooth, but her eyes narrowed and full of a brewing storm.

“You knew…you’ve known for months and you _didn’t think to tell me?_ ” She articulated her words very exactingly as she finished. Now her face was twisted into a half grimace/ half scowl. She motioned to say something very loudly, but stopped herself and turned away. “I think you owe me an explanation.” She was surprisingly soft when she said it. She sounded betrayed by his admission.

Cullen was furious with himself for hurting her or making her feel like this. _I didn’t want to…_ he thought to his self, not knowing how to end the thought. He realized then that he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told her. He hated that she had found out in this way. _She deserves better than this,_ he thought. He paused to gather his thoughts and choose his words.

“When I first met you, that first day at the Breach, you seemed very familiar to me. I wasn’t sure why.” He said. “After you asked Cassandra to send word to your parents, Leliana did some investigation into your past to make sure you were who you said you were. She found out about Edwin and told me.” He looked to see her reaction. He saw her looking over the lake, her eyes darting between the full moon and the Breach’s green glow. He could not discern what she was thinking. She looked and felt a thousand leagues away. He knew that he had deeply betrayed her trust, and that knowledge cut him more deeply than he thought it could.

After another long pause, she turned to him and asked, “Cullen, how did my brother die?” Her voice cracked slightly. Her face was a mix of anger, sadness, and fear. He hated seeing her face like that.

“Saliah, I—” Cullen began, not knowing what to say. He had given news of the fallen to family members in the past. He hated the duty more than anything in his life. But, he knew how to do it; except for this moment, with this woman.

“ _How did my brother die, Cullen?!”_  She shouted forcefully, rounding on him. _“Did you kill him?”_ She dropped her tone to just above a low growl.

“What?” He was shocked at the accusation. “Maker, no! Saliah, your brother and I were friends. I…he and I—” The memory of his death was taking clear shape in his mind.

“Friends?!” She laughed sardonically. As soon as she laughed, her face stopped and she turned to him. “You…” she said, falling silent.

“You,” she repeated after a time and gestured to him, as though several pieces of him made a picture came together. “You were the Templar Ed told me about, in his letters.” Her face alternately softened at the memory of her brother and steeled as she looked Cullen squarely in the eyes.

“How did my brother die, Cullen?” She repeated once more. “Tell me. With details, I want to know.” She demanded. The more she asked him, the thicker he felt the wall between them grow.

Cullen held her gaze and dreaded what he had to tell her, what he had to relive yet again. He shifted his weight and sighed, closing his eyes.

“It was during the early days of the Blight.” Cullen opened his eyes and looked away from her beautiful and angry face, over her shoulder into nothing. “There was a Senior Enchanter named Uldred. Unbeknownst to any of the Templars, Uldred had begun teaching his closest students blood magic, promising them power and freedom. One of the students approached your brother, saying that Uldred wanted him to join.” Cullen’s eyes went back to Saliah’s. “Uldred found him most curious. Frankly, all of them did. I often heard people in the circle say how your brother’s magic _felt_ different to them. It did certainly register differently with me.” He smiled a small smile, remembering the boy’s gentle way. “Now, all these years later, I know why.” His smile quickly faded in the face of Saliah’s hard, silent stare.

Cullen cleared his throat, looked away, and continued. “After he had been approached, Edwin came to me and told me what he had been offered. He was deeply disturbed at the thought of blood magic. Again, another mystery solved by your confession.” He looked to her, searching for any remnant of the woman with whom he had become so close. His heart sank when he found none. She looked at him apathetically.

“I thanked him,” Cullen continued, “and went to Knight Commander Greagoir to report the incident. He and First Enchanter Irwin confronted Uldred…” Cullen winced as the pain in his head began to pull at him again. “The next thing we knew, a full insurrection launched. I was with your brother when we heard the cries to attack.” His memory of everything jumped into full motion, as though it were happening before him. He saw the fear and panic in his young friend’s face all over again. The pain of the memory struck him everywhere. Cullen stopped to catch his breath and steady himself.

After he regained his composure, he looked at Saliah for a long beat. He knew what he was about to tell her. But, he couldn’t guess at all to her reaction. “Are you sure you want to know this?” He asked.

“Yes.” She replied flatly.

He sighed and continued. “Your brother and I decided that we would get to the children and get them out. We were not far from their dormitories. We fought through a surprising amount of mages and abominations,” he did not believe, as he never did, all of the abominations and demons he saw in his mind’s eye. “…to get to their rooms. Despite injury, we made it to them. As we were leaving, we were cornered by a group of Uldred’s followers.” He stopped and looked at her once more. She motioned for him to continue, her face stone.

“Edwin tried to reason with them, telling them to lay down their arms.” Cullen said.

“That sounds like Ed.” Saliah said suddenly, her face softened, not looking anywhere in particular. Her hardness came back instantly as he eyes met his. “Continue.”

He looked at her for a long beat before he spoke again, dreading what he was about to do to her heart. “In the midst of the argument, one of the mages saw an opening and leveled his staff at me, casting a spell. I thought I was done.” Cullen’s spine shivered as he saw the magic bolt in his memory. “Before I knew what was happening, Edwin jumped in front of me and took the hit.” He saw the color leave Saliah’s face at the realization of what her brother had done. “He had been badly injured before…the spell killed him instantly.” She didn’t move, or look at him. Cullen wasn’t sure if she was actively breathing.

“The children and I were taken hostage.” Cullen shuddered and was nauseous at the memories that pulled at him of what transpired during his capture.  “I was found a several days later by Leliana, the Hero of Ferelden, and Alistair Theirin, the man who is now King of Ferelden.”

He looked to Saliah, who was still in shock it seemed.

“Saliah?” He stepped closer to her, hoping that she would come back to herself now that she knew.

“My brother died saving you?” She asked quietly, still pale and not looking at him.

“Yes.”

“My brother is dead…and you’re alive?” She asked the question again incredulously, her temper rising in her voice.

“Yes.”

“My brother has been dead for a decade, and yet here you stand before me.” Saliah stepped in closer and she drilled into his gaze with her own, her hands balling into fists. Cullen readied to defend himself.

“Yes.”

“My brother laid down his life for a _fucking Templar? For one who thought him cursed and dangerous?_ ” Saliah’s tone was full of anger now.

“Yes.” _Please don’t take this there, Saliah,_ he thought to himself. He didn’t want to fight her. He desperately wished that he could have given her this news in a better way. But, he knew, there was no easy way to do this.

Before he knew what was happening, she was roughly pulling him down to eye level with her. Her face was an inch from his. He had seen anger like hers few times in his life.

“ _Then you had better be ready to die for me_.” She said in a low, fast, menacing tone. With that, she released him, pushing him back several inches. She turned and ran before he could say or do anything.

Cullen watched her run, bewildered at her actions and sentiment. Cullen realized that she wasn’t angry with him, necessarily. She was angry, deeply angry at the entire Order, for having taken Edwin in the first place. And now, thanks to this realization, for being part of the reason that he was dead. He now fully understood her anger and near-hatred of the Order. After what he had seen them do, he wasn’t sure he was offended at her sentiment.

As she neared the entrance to the village, he saw Saliah almost collide with Cassandra. He saw Cassandra look at her with concern and ask what was wrong. He saw Saliah shudder and fall into her friend’s chest. His breath caught as he realized that she was sobbing. Cassandra held her, looking around in confusion and shock and then led her back to her cabin. Before he knew what he was doing, Cullen ran all-out to the cabin. He had to explain, to apologize, to try and help her through this.

 

Stepping out of the cabin an hour later, Cassandra jumped as she saw Cullen lurking in the shadow that was cast by the small awning.

“Cullen! You startled me.” Cassandra whispered harshly.

“My apologies, Cassandra.” Cullen said dully. “How is she doing?”

Cassandra saw that he looked very worried. “She’s in shock, Cullen. She’s just relived her brother’s death, 10 years after the fact. She fell asleep a moment ago. Her maid is staying with her for the night.”

Cullen blew the air out of his lungs as he leaned with his back to the cabin’s wall. He hung his head without comment.

“How long have you known about all of this?” Cassandra asked.

“Since the beginning, when you launched the Inquisition.”

“Cullen, that was months ago!” She whispered harshly.

“I was trying to find the right time to tell her, Cassandra.” He retorted, his voice annoyed and defensive.

“It is always the right time, Cullen.” Cassandra said firmly.

Cullen crossed his arms. “You’re right.” He looked over his shoulder to the door and made for it. “I should go in there.”

Cassandra caught him as he went for the doorknob. “Cullen, she is teetering in a place between heartbreak and rage. I do not think you should go in there. I don’t know what will happen. I’ve seen her take on three demons, and not even blink, when her rage is in full swing.”

He looked at her uncertainly. He didn’t know what to say.

“Give her a few days. Right now, her anger is blind and aimed entirely at you.” Her words wounded Cullen more than anything Saliah could say or do. Because, he knew, Cassandra was right.

Cullen sighed and stepped back. Without a word, he turned and left.

Cassandra put her hands on her hips and hung her head, shaking it.

The village was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a really long chapter. I tried to break it up a few ways, but I really couldn't find a natural break point. 
> 
> Regardless, it's one of my faves so far. I hope you enjoyed it!


	9. Poles Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saliah makes ready for the rest of everything.

Saliah awoke before dawn the next morning, feeling like she was somewhere between sore and hung over. She sat up in bed and rubbed her face with both hands. Flopping her hands into her lap, she looked around the room of what had become her home in the last months. Mindlessly looking at the fire in the hearth, she could feel her eyes were puffy and swollen from her tears the night before. _Ed…_ she thought, remembering all at once what Cullen had told her. She was too tired to get worked up about Cullen’s confession again, despite the quiet rage that powered the dull ache in her head. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her hands behind her neck, trying to manage her headache. She didn’t know how she was going to manage the day’s visit to Redcliffe and be the symbol of the movement to which she had pledged herself. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to, she admitted silently.

She turned up her head when she heard a tinkling sound. Ana was there, sitting at the end of her bed, quietly mixing something in a large mug. Saliah looked around to see a bedroll at her bedside.

“You stayed.” Saliah mumbled, looking at the elf.

“Of course I stayed, m’lady.” Ana said as she finished mixing the concoction, accentuating her statement by tapping the spoon to the edge of the mug’s mouth. “Drink this. It will help revive you.” She handed Saliah the mug.

Saliah reached over her knees and took the mug, never breaking the elf’s sight. She brought the mug to her nose and smelled it, then took a sip. She looked down to the dark tea that was in it, and then back up to Ana’s face. “Ana, I…thank you.” She said as her voice cracked from the lump in her throat. Her maid’s kindness always reminded her of homes, of her family. Large tears spilled down her cheeks as she remembered, again, how her family had one less member. She bit all of her lower lip, forming a deep grimace. _The spell killed him instantly…_ Cullen’s warm baritone repeated in her mind. She resented his voice in her memory. She resented everything about the handsome Commander after his confession. 

Ana quickly moved to her side, pulling Saliah to her and wrapping her arms around the grieving woman. She shushed and cooed her, trying to console her. Saliah broke into open sobs, clutching to the elf’s arm with one hand and crying into her neck.

“How am I to do this, Ana?” She wailed between sobs. “How am I supposed to go out there and do this? Even now, I don’t get to mourn him.”

“My lady, you must” Ana said into the back of Saliah’s head, rocking her gently. Ana’s heart ached for the young woman’s broken heart as she petted her hair. She knew, though, that she needed to get her moving. The lady Seeker had told her of what they had to do. She realized that she herself needed Saliah’s strength. “You must be strong for your brother, for your family, for all of us. We all need you.”

“I don’t want it.” Saliah sobbed. “The Chantry killed him. All of it! How am I to fight for a group that…that…” the wails and sobs that erupted didn’t let her finish her statement. Saliah shook and cried violently, as Ana had seen her do into the Seeker’s bosom the night before. She held her as she cried, still rocking her and petting her head.

“Well, it’s a good thing that this is the Inquisition and not Chantry.” Ana said after the sobs had abated, breaking her embrace. She saw Saliah sitting there, limply—full of sadness. She cupped Saliah’s face in her hands and lifted it, holding her gaze steady. “And you are not a simple Chantry Sister. You are the Herald of Andraste, an honorable and fearsome warrior of the people. You broke the war between the Mages and the Templars in Ferelden. You have lifted the spirits of Haven and beyond. You are the one who will close the Breach.” Ana said gently and reassuringly. “You are the one to set things right and create a new path, my Lady Saliah. So, drink your tea and do that. I will help you get your things ready.” Ana ran her thumbs across Saliah’s cheeks maternally, gently tracing the vertical scar on her left cheek. She dropper her hands, stood up and went about readying Saliah’s armor and travel pack.

Saliah wiped her eyes and face with her bed sheet. Obeying Ana, she stood, finished her tea, and went to the washbasin. _We all need you._ Saliah thought of her servant’s statement through her dulled, mourning mind as she removed her nightgown and washed. She knew that sulking and mourning her brother was not a luxury she could afford, as much as she wanted to. She turned and received the small clothes that Ana handed her. Saliah and Ana prepared for her departure silently. All the while, Saliah contemplated what was next for her, if only to keep her mind busy. _I must keep going,_ she thought to herself, _Ed would never forgive me if I gave up._ She strained her imagination to hear the words of encouragement from her brother. She would have given anything to hear him. Instead, she heard Cullen’s voice comforting her, giving her advice on how to deal with the realities of what she must face. Her heart was consoled at the memory of his sound, but her raw emotions pushed him from her mind, irked at his presence. _Why didn’t you tell me sooner?_ She thought to herself. _Why were you the one to live?_

 

Saliah saw Cassandra, Varric, the Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Solas near the entrance to the stables as she approached. Out of habit, she looked around for Cullen and then quickly remembered that she didn’t want to see him. Scowling, she silently went to her horse and began tacking it.

“Good Morning to you as well, Beautiful.” Varric said as he walked up. The smirk on his face quickly faded as he saw her puffy eyes and splotchy skin. She looked like she had been crying. “What happened?” He asked quietly, moving in close.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Varric.” Saliah said solemnly, not stopping what she was doing.

Turning around, Varric saw Cassandra motion for him to leave Saliah alone. He looked back to his friend, and walked back to his pony. Looking around, Varric suddenly noticed Cullen’s absence from their departure; an event he usually wouldn’t miss. Looking back and forth between Saliah and the direction of Cullen’s tent, Varric walked quickly to Cassandra. Before he could say anything, Cassandra stopped him in his tracks and motioned him back to his horse.

“Do you know what happened, Seeker?” Varric whispered harshly.

Cassandra sighed, looked at her horse’s side. “I’m not at liberty to provide details.” She looked to Saliah and back to Varric. “Ask her once we’re on the road. Give her a few hours.”

Varric looked at her for a beat and then went back to his pony.

Most of the ride to Redcliffe was notably silent. Saliah led her Company as she would normally, but rode far in front of her usual companions, clearly wanting to be left alone. Varric suspected whatever was bothering her had something to do with Cullen, given his absence from their departure this morning. Pulling up to Cassandra, he asked “Are you going to tell me what happened or not? Because the Herald clearly wants to be left alone.”

Not looking at him, Cassandra sucked her teeth in annoyance. “I told you before, dwarf, I am not at liberty to tell you anything.”

Varric leaned in to her as much as the height difference of their mounts would allow. “I think I should know if there is something wrong between the Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces, Seeker.” and said urgently but quietly. “That’s a bit of a big deal.”

Cassandra looked at him for a beat, her eyes narrowed. She dropped and shook her head. “You will likely find out, regardless.” She looked over to him again. “As it would turn out, the Commander knew Saliah’s brother years ago. He was stationed at the Circle where her brother lived.”

“I see.” Varric knew well about Saliah and her dead brother. “Hell of a small world. So, what, she’s upset that he didn’t tell her?” Varric’s eyebrows knitted together as a thought occurred to him. “Andraste’s ass, did Curly kill him?”

“No, quite the opposite. Her brother died saving Cullen’s life.” Cassandra said quietly. “Saliah is angry that he waited months to tell her about her brother’s death. She didn’t know how he had died before last night.” Cassandra went on to tell him the salient points of the story, including that her brother had corresponded with Saliah, about Cullen.

“Blighted _Hell_ of a small world.” Varric repeated, looking at the back of Saliah’s head. “What are the odds?” He asked no one in particular.

They rode in silence side-by-side for a while longer. The difference in their horses’ size made the clip-clop of their hooves keep a strange time with one another. Then Varric said suddenly “So, your brother died at the hands of apostates seeking dragon’s blood. Her brother died saving a Templar from blood mages. ‘Makes Bartrand’s death simple, I suppose.”

“How do you know about Anthony’s death?” Cassandra asked in an exasperated tone.

“I heard you tell Beautiful about it.” There was the tiniest hint of wry amusement in Varric’s tone. He couldn’t help but show it.

Cassandra shook her head in annoyance at the dwarf’s intrusiveness. “Who is Bartrand?” Cassandra asked, watching the road.

“My brother. The one who went crazy from Red Lyrium.”

“He’s dead?”

“I killed him.” Varric said emotionlessly. Cassandra’s eyes went wide as she slowly turned her head to Varric. Varric chuckled ruefully, feeling her gaze. “Don’t judge too hard, Seeker. Suffice it to say, it was a mercy killing. And not all siblings care for each other the way you and Beautiful did for your brothers.” Varric’s face grimaced at the memory of how he bid farewell to his brother before he aimed Bianca at him and ended his life.

“I’m…my condolence, Varric.” Cassandra said, looking at the dwarf.

“Thanks.” Varric said, not looking back. “It was…it was a shit time.”

Cassandra looked at the dwarf as he swayed in his saddle, in rhythm with his mount. His face was quiet and solemn, which was unusual for the boisterous man.  For the first time, she began to understand him and felt genuine sadness for him. She could not fathom having to kill her brother. She looked back to the road, and saw that they were nearing their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally thought to put this at the beginning of chapter about Redcliffe, but it was enough of a sway in motion that I figured a small interlude to conclude 'Hey Brother' was prudent. 
> 
> PS- for those following along with my easter eggs, I'm not suggesting a David Gilmore/Roger Waters rivalry. 
> 
> Don't get it? Look it up ;D


	10. Red Right Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian Pavus, y'all! Also, hints at the nefarious Venatori.

About 100 yards from the gates of Redcliffe, Saliah felt her brand start to crack and hum. She focused around her; knowing that it meant they were near a rift. As they neared the gates, she made the command to stop.

“Why are we stopping?” Cassandra asked.

“There’s a rift nearby. There, in front of the city entrance.” Saliah motioned to the horizon. The light of the rift was peeping through the treetops. Without a word, Saliah dismounted and handed her horse to the standard bearer.

Saliah and her team approached the rift and the city gates. Her brand was reacting differently to this rift. She was acutely aware of something, there was something different about this fissure from the fade into this world.

“My lady,” Solas said, quickly coming up behind her “this rift—“

“Feels different.” Saliah said, finishing the mage’s thought.

“Yes, indeed.” Solas agreed.

“What is different about it?” Cassandra asked.

Saliah squinted her eyes and licked her lips, trying to verbalize what she felt from her hand. “This rift feels… I don’t know… it feels _faster._ ”

“Faster?” Cassandra asked, confused by the sentiment.

“I don’t know how else to describe it.” Saliah said in a strange tone as she tied her hair up into her warrior’s knot. “Either way, I have to close it. We can’t let the demons into the city.” She said as she pulled her maul from its brace. Without another word, she moved forth towards it. Her team quickly armed itself and followed her.

The demons that spewed from this rift moved faster the closer Saliah came to the core of the hole. Pummeling through a collection of sloth and hunger demons, Saliah felt the clearest she had been all day. She focused her rage, her anger, and her pain into splitting them all in half. Covered in her victims’ ichors, she was abstractly amazed at the volume of them that came; there were more demons here than she had ever seen come from a rift.

She heard the cry of a Despair Demon and ran towards it, knowing its ice ray would wreak havoc on her team. As she approached it, the demon flew backwards. Before it could go too far, Saliah launched her hooked chain at it, breaking its retreat and pulling it to her. Releasing the chain, Saliah all at once hoisted her hammer and launched it at the demon, braining it and killing it in a few, overtly fast actions. Running back to the source of the invasion, Saliah shot her branded hand towards the hole, willing her own force through it and envisioning sealing the hole as she did when she worked to close a rift. As reality knitted itself back together, Saliah felt everything around her slow down. Her pulse, her movement, the energy from the brand, all of it slowed as she closed the hole. It was an alien and unsettling feeling. She fell to her knee, breathing heavily as the rift exploded above her.

“ _What_ was that?” Blackwall asked incredulously.

“We do not know everything of what these rifts can do.” Solas said, “It would seem as though this one effected time itself.” He seemed surprised at his own hypothesis.

“Let’s just get into the city. We’ll worry about the curious rift later.” Saliah said as she stood and placed her weapon in its holder.

As they collected in front of the gates, Saliah heard cries of relief and commands to lift the gate. Meeting them in the open archway was an Inquisition scout, one of Leliana’s agents.

“My lady Herald.” The scout said, saluting her.

“How did you get into the city? Was the rift already here?” Saliah said shortly, without returning the greeting.

“No, my lady.” Said the scout, “the rift appeared this morning. We’ve spread the word that the Inquisition was coming,” the scout reported, “but you should know that no one here was expecting us.”

“No one? Not even First Enchanter Fiona?” Saliah asked, surprised.

The scout shrugged. “If she was, she hasn’t told anyone. We’ve arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations.”

Just as the scout finished his relay, a young mage in Circle robes trotted up to Saliah and her team. “Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies!” He said breathlessly. “Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn’t yet arrived. He’s expected shortly.”

 _Magister Alexius?_ Saliah mouthed to Cassandra, cocking her eyebrow. Cassandra looked agape at the announcement.

“You can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime.” The young mage offered, motioning for them to follow.

Saliah was puzzled at the mage’s frankness. It was as though he were simply relaying obvious news, and not passively announcing the take-over of a major Fereldan city by a member of the Tevinter Imperium. Steadying herself, Saliah nodded and motioned for her team to follow.

“What the hell is going on?” Varric mumbled to Saliah as they walked through Redcliffe. The town seemed calm, too calm for a town that was invaded by a foreign power.

“I have no fucking clue.” Saliah muttered in reply, looking around. “But, I’m sure we’re about to find out.”

Saliah and her companions walked into the town tavern: a poorly lit and empty place. At one of the tables, First Enchanter Fiona stood and greeted them. “Welcome, Agents of the Inquisition.” She said in a hazy tone. “What has brought you to Recliffe?”

“Are you joking? You asked for our help.” Saliah said, surprised at the woman’s lack of recognition. “You came all the way to Val Royeaux to invite us here.”

“You must be mistaken,” Fiona replied. “I haven’t been to Val Royeaux since before the Conclave.”

“I know it was you. You approached us as the Templars left the city.” Saliah insisted, her already frayed nerves worn thin.

“That is strange… regardless of whoever or whatever brought you, the free mages have already pledged themselves to the service of the Imperium.” Fiona replied

“An alliance with the Tevinter Imperium? Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?” Cassandra cut in, not believing what she heard.

“As one indentured to a Magister,” Fiona continued, ignoring Cassandra’s question “I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.”

“Great.” Saliah spat back, “Who is in charge, now?”

As if in response, the tavern door opened and two men walked in, wearing strange robes. The older man was cloaked, with three horn-like protrusions from his hood. The younger man, cowl-less, walked behind him.

“Welcome, my friends!” The older man exclaimed. “I apologize for not greeting you earlier.”

“Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius.” Fiona said as she motioned to the strange man.

“The southern mages are under my command.” Alexius said, in what Saliah immediately detected as false pleasantry. He measured Saliah up, his eyes catching on her glowing hand. “And you are the Survivor, yes?” He asked Saliah. “The one from the Fade…interesting.”

Saliah had never hated the tone of a voice more in her life, and took note that this man was the first to ever not immediately recognize her holy title. “You’re a long way from home, Ser.” Saliah said flatly.

The Magister chuckled, inviting her to sit. Just as Saliah was beginning to get to why they were in Redcliffe, the younger man shuffled near the table, looking faint. Instinctively, Saliah stood and caught the man. She felt him shove a slip of paper into her hand as he collapsed. Before she could ask what happened, the Magister ran to the man’s side.

“Felix, my son!” He said, worried.

“My lady, I am sorry.” The young man said, looking up to Saliah. “Please forgive me.”

“Are you alright?” The Magister asked before Saliah could reply. He crouched over his son protectively.

“I’m fine, Father.” Felix replied meekly.

“I will get you your powders.” Alexius replied. Standing up and surveying the room, he said, “Please excuse me, my friends. We will have to continue this at another time. I will send word to the Inquisition with an invitation.” He quickly collected Felix, motioned to Fiona to follow him and left.

Saliah looked on as they left, confounded by what had transpired. Looking down to her hand, she read the note Felix had given her. _Come to the Chantry, you are in danger,_ it read.

“No, that wasn’t weird at all.” The Iron Bull spoke, breaking the silence. Walking over to Saliah, he looked over her shoulder at the note. “I guess we’re going to the Chantry, huh, Boss?”

“I guess we are, Bull.” Saliah said in reply as she made for the door. “The Wardens, the Templars, and now this.” Saliah said to herself. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I have no idea.” The Bull and Varric responded in unison, hearing her.

“I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.” The Bull continued.

Not long later, the group arrived at Redcliffe’s Chantry. Opening the Chantry doors, Saliah saw another rift that felt like the one she had just closed. This time, though, there was a well-dressed mage killing the last manifested demons.  “Oh good, you’re finally here!” He said as though he had been waiting for them. “Now help me close this before more come through, would you?”

Before she could answer, her hand cracked and hummed again. Instinct taking over, Saliah put her hand forth and closed the rift, feeling that strange slowing sensation again. The mage scooted out of the way as the rift exploded shut.

“Fascinating. How does that work, exactly?” The mage asked in his singsong accent that was similar to the Magister’s. As he approached Saliah, he focused on her branded hand. Saliah sized him up, not knowing what to expect. He was a beautiful man: fine-featured, with short black hair, grey eyes, and an impeccably kept mustache. He was slight of frame, and wore very rich and strange mage robes. Saliah supposed that they were likely Tevinter fashion, but he didn’t have the horned cowls like the other two had. His staff was also fashionable. Saliah had heard the Tevinter Imperium was a mage’s society. They wielded magic freely and did not believe in apostasy. Made sense that their robes would be fashionable and not uniform. Saliah also remembered that these people openly used blood magic. She bristled at the notion of it.

The mage must have taken her silence as ignorance, because he started snickering. “You don’t even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and _BOOM”_ he gestured with his hands, “Rift closes.” His eyes traveled to the maul handle on Saliah’s back. 

“Who are you?” Saliah asked, ignoring his commentary.

“Ah, getting ahead of myself again, I see.” The mage chuckled. “Dorian of House Parvus, most recently of Mintrathous. How do you do?” He bowed and flourished his arm in salute.

“Saliah of House Trevelyan.” Saliah replied, bowing her head. _This man is a noble from Tevinter._ She found him most curious.

“Another Tevinter.” Cassandra stated. “Be cautious with this one, Herald.”

“Suspicious friends you have, here.” Dorian chuckled. At once, his face became serious. “Magister Alexius was once my mentor. So, my assistance should be valuable, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“Are you the one who sent that note, then?” Saliah asked. She wasn’t sure if this man was here to help, or to intrude. Either way, he was right. His information could be valuable. “I was expecting to find Felix here, to be honest.”

“I am.” Dorian replied. “Someone had to warn you, after all.” He stepped in closer to Saliah. The Bull and Cassandra stepped in as well, behind her. “Look,” he started, “you must know there’s danger. That should be obvious without the note.”

“You mean the most passive invasion in the history of Thedas, or the First Enchanter’s amnesia? No, I hadn’t noticed.” Saliah replied, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one side. Varric chuckled at her sarcasm.

“As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right.” Dorian smiled, playing along with her false ignorance. “To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition today, Alexius distorted time itself.”

“That is fascinating if true, and almost certainly dangerous.” Solas said in his eternally calm tone. He stepped up to the crowd, “My lady, that would explain why these rifts felt differently to you.”

Saliah nodded, turning back to Dorian. Dorian nodded as well, and continued. “It is interesting that you were able to detect the difference. At any rate, soon, there will be more like it, and they’ll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is _wildly_ unstable, and it’s unraveling the world.” His brow furrowed as he finished his statement. Saliah could see that he was unsettled by the implications.

She looked at Dorian for a beat, considering what he said. “You’re asking me to take an awful lot on faith. I’m no mage, but I’ve never heard of this _time_ magic.”

“I know what I’m talking about.” He paused. “I helped develop this magic, with Alexius. At first, it was pure theory; we could never get it to work.” He shrugged as if answering his own question. “What I don’t understand is why he’s doing it. Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys? It doesn’t make sense.”

“He isn’t doing it for them.” Felix said, entrance unnoticed, walked up to the group.

“Took you long enough!” Dorian said in greeting. The two men embraced, as though they had known each other for years. Dorian broke the embrace and held Felix by the shoulders and looked at him. “Is he getting suspicious?”

“No, but I shouldn’t have played the illness card.” Felix replied with a chuckle. “I thought he would be fussing over me all day.”

Felix stepped back to address Saliah’s group. “My father has joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the Venatori.” He shook his head, still not believing what was transpiring. “And I can tell you one thing, Lady Trevelyan, he’s done it to get to you.”

“All this for me, really? And you all know so much about me!” Saliah arched her eyebrows. She looked to Dorian and smiled, “and here I didn’t get Alexius anything. Poor manners on my part.”

“Send him a fruit basket.” Dorian offered wryly. “Everyone loves those.”

For the first time that day, Saliah laughed out loud. The whole situation, while dangerous, was equally ridiculous. The whole room broke into laughter. They laughed long and hard, leaning on one another. There was a moment where it seemed to have died down, but then The Iron Bull said something about a pomegranate, and the whole room broke down into guffaws once more.

“You know you’re his target.” Dorian said seriously, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. The room at once became serious again. “Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage.”

“Indeed.” Cassandra offered.

“I can’t stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn’t know I’m here, and I want to keep it that way, for now, anyway. When you’re ready to deal with the Venatori, find me. I want to be there.” Dorian said. Saliah knew that he wasn’t looking for an invitation to join the Inquisition, but she was going to offer it anyway.

“Well, then you’re coming back with us to Haven.” Saliah replied. “We’ll procure a horse for you.” Saliah wasn’t sure if she fully trusted the Tevinter, but she liked his wit. Regardless of trust, this man seemed genuine in his desire to help. If there was a supremacist cult coming after her, she knew she was going to need all the help she could get.

“Ah, thank you, my lady. That’s quite alright.” Dorian replied pleasantly as he bowed.

“No, truly I insist, Dorian. We could use your help.” Saliah said.

“Oh, silly me—my apologies, Lady Herald. I meant that I have my own horse. I will gladly join you in this Haven place.” Dorian replied with a chuckle.

“Alright. Let’s get going then.” Saliah smiled to her group.

“Herald, should we not stay and investigate matters further?” Cassandra asked, still looking at the Tevinter mage.

“The Commander was quite clear on this, Lady Seeker. We are to return if we suspect any foul play.” Saliah responded, the memory of Cullen hardening her tone. “I think this qualifies as ‘foul play,’ yes?”

Cassandra knew Saliah’s tone was not aimed at her. “That is correct,” Cassandra replied, “the Commander did say that.” Not wanting to press the matter in front of the stranger, she turned and went to the door. Cassandra knew that Saliah, regardless of what transpired personally between her and Cullen, was going to listen to the Commander. She found comfort in that realization.

As the group was leaving, Dorian turned to Felix. “Felix, try not to get yourself killed, yes?”

Felix smiled quietly at them. “There are worse things than dying, Dorian.”

Saliah didn’t know what to make of his comment.

 

As they arrived back in Haven that evening, Saliah was surprised to see Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen waiting for them at the town entrance. Dorian, who had accompanied her on the ride back, stopped chatting with Saliah when he when he saw the grim faces.

“My, don’t they look happy to see us.” Dorian said lightly.

Riding up, Varric saw the trio. “Is Curly that worried that you’re going to beat the shit out of him?” He smiled, looking at Saliah’s less amused face.

“How do you know about...?” She looked back to Cassandra. The Seeker shrugged meekly. Saliah turned back around and sighed. “I would have told you eventually, I suppose.”

“That’s how the Seeker saw it.” Varric smiled at her.

As they approached, Saliah looked at Cullen. Her heart skipped beats familiarly at seeing him. Especially now, when his jaw was set and his look was smoldering. Equally quick to surface was her latent anger at him. Two days ago, she would have chided herself for swooning over him once more. Now, she chided herself for not being able to conquer her attraction for this man with whom she was so furious. She sighed sharply in frustration.

Saliah, Dorian, and Cassandra walked up to the trio as the rest of the Company went about dismounting and scattering. “To what to we owe the pleasure of such a welcome?” Saliah said evenly as she approached. “Typically we have a welcome party of…” she looked to Cullen. She cleared her throat. “Well, what brings you all here?” The look in his eyes was indiscernible.

“We received a message from a raven of Tevinter, inviting the Herald to Redcliffe to continue negotiations.” Josephine said in a confused tone. “Would you care to give details?”

“Not here, but yes.” Saliah said, looking around. “Let’s head to the war room.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Saliah looked to the advisors. “What did the note say?”

“The letter asked for you by name, my lady.” Josephine responded. “He asked for you to return immediately. It’s obviously a trap.”

“Isn’t that kind of him. So much for the fruit basket.” Saliah muttered, leaning on the great central table. Dorian and Cassandra chuckled. “What else does he say about me?”

“He’s so complimentary of you, I’m quite sure he wants to kill you.” Leliana responded. “What happened in Redcliffe?”

Saliah recounted their entrance to the town, how eerily calm its people were. She told them of what transpired with the First Enchanter and with the Magister. When she got to the part including Dorian and time magic, she stopped and introduced him to the advisors. Their cool response told her that they did not trust him. She couldn’t blame them.

“So, now, I must return and finish this I suppose.” She concluded.

“We simply don’t have the man power to take the castle, my lady.” Cullen said evenly. “Either we find a different way in, or give up this nonsense and go get the Templars.”

“You would say that.” Saliah barbed, despite herself.

“Not this again.” Josephine sighed, rolling her eyes.

Cullen tensed his hands on his sword as he leaned towards Saliah, over the table. “Redcliffe castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in Ferelden. It has repelled thousands of assaults.” His reply was equally as sharp as Saliah’s sentiment. “If you go in there, you will die. And with you goes the Inquisition’s only means of closing the rifts and the Breach. This is tactics, Herald, not blind insistence.” He narrowed his eyes at Saliah.

“I’m well aware of the danger, Commander, I’m no fool.” Saliah shot back. “But, Redcliffe is in the hands of a Magister. I cannot allow that to stand! I would be taking this on regardless of our stake in the mages’ assistance.”

“I won’t allow it.” Cullen insisted, his face and gaze softening. Saliah wanted to slap every inch of that face. She detested the rolling butterflies in her stomach.

“And if we don’t even try to meet Alexius, we loose the mages and leave a hostile foreign power on our doorstep.” Leliana interjected, breaking Saliah and Cullen’s argument.

Saliah stepped back from the table and crossed her arms. “Where is the Arl in all of this? Do we know? I’m sure he would take our help.”

“Surely he has made for Denerim, my Lady.” Josephine responded. “King Alistair is his nephew. He will not be interested in our assistance, when he can make his case there and rally the Fereldan army. Besides, any act of force on our part will certainly be seen as an act of war. Our hands are tied.”

“But the Magister—” Cassandra began.

“Has out played us, Seeker.” Cullen said firmly.

“I refuse to accept that this is over.” Saliah said.

The group shifted wordlessly in their places. Saliah looked over the map, forcing to keep herself calm.

“Wait, I may have a solution.” Leliana said after a time. “In my time travelling with the Hero of Ferelden, we went to the castle. We got in through a secret passageway that is for the family. It is too small for our troops. But, I could send in agents and stage an assassination of this Magister.”

“Too risky.” Cullen turned to the Spymaster. “Those agents would be discovered well before they reach the Magister.”

“That’s why we will need a distraction, Commander. Perhaps the envoy the Magister wants to badly?” Leliana replied, gesturing to Saliah.

“Focus their attention on Saliah while we take out the Tevinters?” Cullen asked with his eyebrows arched. He thought on it for a moment, his hand smoothing over his lips. “It’s still risky, but it could work.” He accepted.

“Fortunately,” Dorian spoke up flamboyantly, “you’ll have help.” He stepped up to the table and looked at Saliah. Saliah smiled to him.

“Your spies will never get past Alexius’ magic without my help. So, if you’re going after him, I’m coming along.” Dorian said to all of them. Saliah and Cassandra nodded in agreement.

“This plan puts you in the most danger, my lady.” Cullen said to Saliah. “It’s up to you.”

“Yes, it is.” Saliah responded firmly. “We leave in the morning. I wouldn’t want to keep the good Magister waiting.”

The group disbanded from the war room. As Cullen walked out of the Chantry, Dorian sauntered up to Saliah. “ _Who_ is that?” He asked, not looking at her.

“Cullen Rutherford. He’s the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces.” Saliah replied.

“He’s delicious!” Dorian quietly proclaimed as he leaned into Saliah’s side.

Saliah smiled despite herself, “yes, he is quite handsome.” Her tone soured a bit at the statement.

“I take it you’re not a fan? You seemed quite put out by him during your meeting.” Dorian asked as they began walking.

“He and I recently… had an argument.”

“It must have been quite an argument to stay so cross with such a man _._ ” Dorian hung heavily on the word ‘man.’

“He, well, he refused to share some poignant information with me, which he should have done sooner.” Saliah felt her resentment rising in her.

“What, does he not sway your way in the wind?” Dorian asked with a wry smile.

“No.” Saliah smiled again. “To be honest, I don’t know which way his sails turn. I’ve never asked.”

“Hmm.” Dorian replied. “Sounds like a story that should be told over drinks. Tell me, does this fair hamlet of yours have a tavern?” He looked around the humble town square with a mildly disparaging look.

“We do, actually.” Saliah replied with a chuckle. _I really enjoy this man’s company_ , she admitted to herself. “It’s actually quite well stocked, all things considered.”

The pair made their way to the tavern. As they walked, Dorian told her of his home. She found it very interesting, hearing about Minrathous. All her life, she had been raised to believe that the Imperium was nothing but monstrous, slave-owning blood mages. Current company could not have been further from that description. Like Varric, Dorian took an instant openness with her. She found the stranger delightful. He was the breath of fresh air she needed.

The usual raucous evening crowd was there, including all of the Chargers, Bull, Varric, and Cassandra. All were entertaining themselves. Saliah was gob smacked to find the Seeker and the dwarf sitting together in a corner, caught in a lively conversation. She about tripped over herself when Varric made Cassandra laugh out right. Not wanting to intrude on anyone’s fun, she motioned to Dorian to take up space at the bar.

“Good evening, my lady! What can I get you?” Flissa, the bartender, greeted them.

“I’ll have a stout, thanks.” Saliah replied and motioned to her partner.

“I will take a serving of your best whiskey. Neat, if you please.” Dorian said.

Once they received their order, the two turned and faced the room. Dorian leaned back, putting his upper arms and elbows on the bar. “Now, my dear, tell my why you are so put out with the handsomest member of our leadership.”

Saliah took note of him saying _our_ and hoped that meant he would fully join the Inquisition. Taking a swig of her beer, she found herself easily opening up to Dorian. She told him about Edwin being taken to the circle, his death, and Cullen’s involvement with it. While careful to leave out any mention of her tribe or anything that could give to questions, she shared everything else with the near stranger. She vented about her anger with him, how betrayed she felt, and a host of other thoughts and feelings she hadn’t really realized she was carrying. The din of the tavern allowed them a certain amount of privacy. All the while, Dorian nodded and listened intently. It was nearly an hour, and several rounds, later when Saliah had finished. She felt much better, but also felt guilty for having rambled on for so long.

“I’m sorry.” She laughed. “You must think I do nothing but prattle on.”

“That’s quite an unusual set of circumstances, Saliah.” Dorian replied after a time. “What a small world, to be working with one who was anonymously a part of your childhood.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” Saliah admitted.

“My dear, you and I are going to be good friends. I already know it.” Dorian turned in his barstool to face her. “So, I am going to speak plainly with you. While I don’t understand this mage/templar business you southerners have, and frankly it seems a bit uncivilized, it seems like the friendship they forged was a rarity. So, why are you angry with him for befriending your brother?”

“I’m not angry about that.” Saliah said, somewhat defensively.

“Then what are you so angry with him for? Certainly, I can understand being cross at him for waiting months to tell you. But, I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Saliah looked at him for a beat. She wasn’t really sure what to say.

“Is it that you’re angry that he lived?” Dorian asked quietly.

Saliah considered the question. After awhile, she nodded. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I am.” Saliah felt slightly ashamed of herself for the sentiment.

The mage chuckled. “My dear woman. Be angry at the man for not telling you. Hell, even resent the time he had with Edwin that you didn’t. But don’t be angry with him for living.” He finished his statement in a somber tone. “For all you know, your brother was clairvoyant and saw what was to come for him.” He continued, motioning around the room to the Inquisition soldiers who were laughing and carrying on. “There are many things to be upset at him for, not the least of which is being so distractingly attractive.” He giggled, amused with his own joke. “But surviving such an ordeal shouldn’t be one of them.” He looked at her.

Saliah didn’t meet his face. She sat quietly, drinking her beer. After awhile, she picked at her eyebrow and looked at her new confidant. “You’re right, Dorian.” She looked at the room and shrugged, nodding her head. “You’re right. I shouldn’t resent him for living…but—”

“But nothing.” Dorian cut her off.

She sighed and looked down, rolling the beer stein between her hands. He was right and she knew it. Saliah realized that she had no right to resent Cullen for surviving. As she came around, she began chiding herself for her behavior the night before.

“I suppose I owe him an apology.” She relented to him.

“I think you do, when you are ready.” He smiled and leaned towards her. “I am not suggesting that you run out tonight and throw yourself at his feet. You have much to sort out in that beautiful head of yours, as it relates to the Commander. But, yes. When you are ready, you should make peace with him.” He sat up and stretched his back. “Well, we have a long day tomorrow. I need some rest. I will see you at the horses?” He said as he reached for his coin pouch.

“No, no. Put your money away, ‘vint. It’s only proper that I buy your drinks tonight.” Saliah announced.

Dorian chuckled at her. “I never thought I would hear statements of propriety preceded by mildly pejorative statements. My, you are a noble, aren’t you?” His voice tittered in amusement. “Thank you, my lady.”

“No, thank you. You’ve given me a lot to consider.” Saliah bowed her head slightly.

As Saliah walked home from dropping off Dorian at his tent, she saw Cullen walking towards her, holding a candle with his head down over some papers. He hadn’t seen her. She willed herself to not stray her course. She decided that she would walk by and not acknowledge him. While soothed by Dorian’s advice, Saliah was still emotionally raw.

“My lady, good evening.” Cullen said, looking up and noticing her.

“Good evening, Commander.” Saliah replied politely. She stopped as he approached her.

“I…” He stammered, seemingly surprised by her tone. “Saliah, I want to apologize for how all that came out, last night. I should have told you sooner.” His warm voice stirred Saliah, her heart and her anger in revolt against one another.

“Thank you.” She replied quietly.

They stood there for a beat, in silence. He stepped closer and looked at her deeply. “I… I would like to be able to move past this.”

“Cullen,” Saliah said more sharply than she meant to. “I’m… I’m not ready to talk to you. I am still sorting all of this out.” She realized that she might as well have bludgeoned him, by the look on his face. Seeing it made Saliah pity him. He meant her no harm by not telling her. But, she was still upset and angry, and didn’t know what to do about him.

She held his gaze for a moment more, and nodded her head to him. “Good night, Commander.”

“Good night, my lady.” She heard him say as she walked towards her home.

As she neared her cabin, Saliah saw through the window that Ana had already set the hearth’s fire for her. She was immensely thankful for it, and that the day was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wondered if I should keep Dorian in the closet, but then decided that I wouldn't. It played so well to have him become the referee for Saliah's behavior. 
> 
> Thanks for all the continued input! 
> 
> Future delights await our fair heroine next time.


	11. There is a Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey there sugar where ya gunna go?  
> I'm going downtown Daddy-O  
> What ya gonna do when you get there, girl?  
> I'm gonna get messed up in a God-Shaped Hole"
> 
> Shit gets real, yo.

_SPLASH!_

“Where the fuck’d they come from?!” Exclaimed a surprised voice.

Saliah heard the sounds of swords unsheathing and sloshing footsteps running through the water. She stood, acutely aware of the knee-deep pool she was in, and pulled her hammer. Looking up, she saw two strangely helmed guards coming towards her, their short swords pulled. One was immediately immolated with a firebolt as Dorian mumbled a spell.

She lunged at her guard, swinging her maul at his head. Her hammer clanged loudly as she connected with her hit. Her opponent flew into the water. Immediately, she jumped and landed on him, threading her fingers through the holes in his helm, pinning his shoulders to the ground with her knees, and held him underwater. He thrashed against her, reaching up, pulling at her hair and her face. Grabbing a handful of hair, the guard pulled Saliah towards the waterline. Grunting in pain, Saliah shifted her weight so that she was sitting squarely on his sternum and pushed her rear down, forcing the air out of his lungs. She felt his ribs give under the weight of her. She struggled with the writhing body for a moment more, and then all at once it went still.

“Sah-“ Dorian began.

Saliah turned her head sharply and silenced him with a look and a gesture. She looked down to the body in the water as she focused her hearing to discern if they were alone. Satisfied with the silence after a moment, she pulled the dead hand from her hair as she rolled back on her haunches and stood up.

Looking around the room, Saliah saw that they were in a storage bunker at the bottom of a staircase. The newly opened gates were flanked on either side by huge red, glowing crystals that seemed to grow out of the wall. Looking behind her, she saw that there was no exit other than the one before her.

“You are beautifully savage when you want to be.” Dorian said quietly, approaching her and looking down at the waterlogged body floating below them.

“That’s what I’m told.” Saliah said, smirking at the backhanded compliment as she squeezed the water from her hair. “Where are we?” She asked as she continued to survey the room.

“We’re in the room that holds the secret entrance Sister Leliana showed me.” He said, looking around. He looked at the two red crystals and narrowed his eyes, darting them around the room, as though he was making sure he wasn’t imagining things. He tucked his chin into his hand, muttering the words ‘displacement’ and ‘rift’ and ‘amulet.’

As he sloshed around the room, Saliah thought he looked as through he was working through a numbers puzzle. “It’s probably not what Alexius intended…” Dorian mumbled to no one. Suddenly he snapped his fingers in a moment of eureka. “I don’t think we should be asking ourselves _where_ so much as _when_!”

“What?” Saliah asked, eyebrows raised.

“Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!” Dorian seemed much more pleased with the outcome than Saliah liked.

“How lovely, your theory is proven.” Saliah said with a serious face and a cocked eyebrow.

“Indee-“ Dorian looked at her and then quickly cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re right; this is not the time to preen.”

“So, did he move us forward or back in time?”

“That is an excellent question.” Dorian responded. “Sadly, I haven’t a clue. Let’s have a look around, see if we can discern where that rift took us.”

“That was a… of course it was a rift.” Saliah said, holding her branded hand to her forehead as she shook her head. “Why am I surprised?” She looked to the stairwell and motioned for Dorian to follow her.

As they walked up the long stairway, Saliah reflected on the confrontation with Magister Alexius. “Do you know what you are?” She remembered the acid in his tone. “You’re nothing but a mistake!” _He’s right. Ultimately, I don’t understand what the mark is for,_ Saliah admitted to herself.  His talk of the Breach being brought about to create a new beginning confused her, as did the apparent ritual she interrupted. Saliah strained her memory to try and remember what happened that first day. But again, all she could remember was green haze, giant spiders, and a voice calling out to her. She sighed sharply as she climbed the stairs. She hated spiders.

“Dorian, do you have any idea who this Elder One is? What was Alexius talking about with the Breach being a new beginning? The start of a new Imperium?” Saliah asked, stopping her ascend.

“The leader of the Venatori, I suspect. Some insane Magister intent on becoming a God.” Dorian said in a disgusted tone. “You’d think the Imperium would learn. But, why pass up the opportunity to one-up the whole “Starting the Blight” claim to fame, when you can tear time itself? Seems like a marvelous idea. Why didn’t I think of it?” He growled sarcastically.

Saliah patted him on the shoulder supportively and continued to ascend the stairs. As they came to the next floor, Saliah was taken aback by all of huge red crystals that seemed to grow out of the ground and out of the walls. They glowed like fire encapsulated in glass, practically lighting their way through the darkened hallways. Her branded hand began to itch. Dorian gave her a concerned look as she scratched at her palm.

“This way.” Dorian motioned. “This path will take us up through the prison cells.”

Saliah nodded as she led the way.

The pair made their way into a room lined with barred cells. Most were empty, save for one where an elven mage’s body lay dead. It lay next to a growth of the red crystal. The body emanated a faint red glow. Saliah stopped and looked at the body, then to one of the red crystal growths in the room, and then back to the body.

“Maker’s bowels.” Saliah breathed, looking at Dorian. “It’s red Lyrium.” She pointed around the room.

“How do you know that?” Dorian asked.

“One of the former Templars in Haven told me about it. It’s why he and his men left the Order.” Saliah replied, mutely remembering Patric’s words. “The Templars he encountered were consuming it, apparently. Patric said that they were glowing as well.” _If it is here…Maker, are the Templars in on this?_ Saliah thought to herself. _Could they have fallen prey to the Elder One?_

“And what is this Red Lyrium?” Dorian asked.

“It’s like the blue shit, except it makes you crazier.” Saliah replied, channeling Varric as she said it. She was at once very worried for her dwarven friend. That worry urged her to not dawdle. “Let’s keep going.”

Continuing down the hall, Saliah and Dorian found a door and opened it easily. Greeting them was another long hallway of barred cells. Saliah went through first, checking for guards. Finding none, she motioned for Dorian to follow her. Halfway down the hall, Saliah saw a familiar bald head and pointed ears out of the corner of her eye. Turning around, she saw the Solas’ back. He was absently swaying side to side, as if caught in some unheard tune. Like with all of the cells, the red Lyrium grew here as well.

“Solas?” Saliah hoarsely whispered.

Turning around, Solas’ usually stoic face turned agape, not believing what he saw.

“You’re alive?” He asked in disbelief. “But, I saw you die!” He came up to the bars and held out his hands to Saliah. Saliah grasped them and pulled herself to the bars. “How is this possible?” He whispered, looking her over.

“No, my friend. I’m quite alive, I assure you. We just got here.” Saliah said, openly smiling and relived to see another familiar face. Her face fell as she realized that Solas was emanating that same red glow. His eyes’ veins were as though he had little red crystals bleeding their light into him. He was gaunt, sickly looking. She released his hand and gently cupped the back of his neck, pulling his forehead to hers. _Maker, what have they done to you?_ She thought, trying to hide the horror she felt.

“How?” Solas asked weakly.

“Alexius’ spell displaced us in time.” Dorian said from behind Saliah.

“Let’s get you out of there. Stand back.” Saliah gently commanded, releasing her friend. She stepped back from the door and kicked it a few times. Finally the she heard the door groan. She approached it again to try and jiggle it off of its hinges to no avail. Frustrated, she kicked it again.

“My dear, let me have a go at it.” Dorian said, leveling his staff. Saliah moved and he blasted the door hinges with fire. Once they had melted enough, he cast an ice spell, making the metal brittle. “Try now. You should be able to kick it open with a  little—” He was interrupted by the crash delivered by Saliah’s kick, “push.” He finished with a small smirk on his face.

Solas stumbled out of the cell, visibly weak. Saliah caught him as he started to fall.

“What did Alexius hope to gain by throwing us forward in time?” Saliah asked as she steadied him.

“I imagine he hoped to wipe you from time altogether. That way, you would never have been at the Temple of Sacred Ashes to spoil his Elder One’s plans. But, as he cast the spell, I countered it. The magic went wild, and well—here we are.” Dorian motioned around him.

“Can you reverse the process?” Solas asked, steadying himself. “You could obviate the events of the last year. It could prevent all of…if you can do this, they can all be saved.”

“If I can get a hold of the amulet, then maybe.” Dorian replied.

“Maybe? Dorian, maybe is not an option.” Saliah said, her voice bordering on shrill.

“Well, it would either send us back, or turn us to paste. Either seems like a better option than this.” Dorian said, putting his hands on his hips indignantly. “I told you before, Saliah, this magic is very unstable. Regardless, arguing over it does no good until we find it.”

“Then let’s keep moving.” She said, turning to Solas. “Are you alright to walk a bit?”

“I will be alright. Being away from the Lyrium is already helping me. But, I have no staff.” Solas’ comment confirmed Saliah’s worst fear. The red poison had begun to consume his mind as Varric had described.

“We’ll find you something.” Saliah said, offering him the path. “Have you seen any of the others?” Her branded hand began itching again. This time, both of the mages looked at her as she scratched it.

“No, they’ve kept us separated. They would also switch us out of our cells every few days. I’ve heard Varric’s singing echoing in the halls, and I’ve heard Cassandra saying the Chant of Light repeatedly. So, I think they are alive. As for the others…” Varric hung his head and shrugged.

“It’s alright, my friend. We’re going to fix this.” Saliah said, rubbing his back reassuringly.

The trio continued down the long hallway, glancing in every cell for their companions. As they crossed by one, Saliah did a double take. She ran to the door, violently shaking the bars. A small, dwarven body lay on the ground facing them, eyes and mouth open.

“Andraste’s blood—Varric!” She cried to the motionless body, being slowly absorbed by the Lyrium around it. “VARRIC! Get the fuck up!” She pleaded, slamming her hands against the iron bars repeatedly, knowing that the mottled body wouldn’t move. Tears stung her eyes as she slumped to the ground, staring at him in disbelief. His death mask was a slack-jawed, milk-eyed face. Not the clever, brave man she knew in life. Her core, which was simmering when they got there, switched into a rolling boil. She started to grimace and breathe quickly as she stared helplessly at her dead friend.

“Saliah, he’s gone.” Solas said quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder. “We need to find the others.”

Saliah looked up to him and back to Varric’s body. She forced her fight down back to a simmer as she nodded. She knew she had to stay clear-headed, but she would get her dues for this, she told herself. She got up and continued forward, wiping her eyes. _I’m so sorry, Varric. I will fix this._ She promised silently.

They found Cassandra and the Blackwall further down the hall. Cassandra was convinced that they were hallucinations until Saliah and Dorian broke down the door to her cell. She threw herself at Saliah, toppling them both to the ground. She was clutching her and sobbing tears of disbelief and relief. Saliah could barely make out what she was saying, distracted by Cassandra’s sobs and her body odor. It was clear that they were not being kept kindly. She held Cassandra’s face in her hands, and marshaled herself to smile reassuringly at her bewildered friend’s gaunt and glowing face. She quickly kissed Cassandra’s clammy forehead and helped her up.

Blackwall’s reaction was much more measured. He was just relieved and happy to see them. He wordlessly clapped Saliah on the back as his eyes glistened with tears.

“Do either of you know what has happened?” Saliah asked the two of them once Blackwall was released from his cell. Saliah summoned everything in her not to gawk at them in horror. They were both visibly malnourished and glowing that hideous shade of red she had seen everywhere. Strangely, all three of them were still in the clothes and armor they wore the day Saliah and Dorian disappeared.

“After you disappeared, those bastards took us all prisoner.” Blackwall growled. “We were told nothing. We’ve been kept in this dungeon and force-fed that red shit for I don’t know how long. I’d like nothing more than to thank them for their hospitality.” He balled his hands into fists and shook his arms as he said it.

“We need to know what year it is.” Dorian said. “I need to know the time lapse if I am to send us back.”

“Then we are going to find out, aren’t we.” Saliah said, turning and continuing forward.

The group entered yet another dungeon of cells, but this one was smaller.

“This is the final room before the rest of the castle.” Dorian said hollowly.

Saliah knew what he was saying: they were not going to find anyone else alive. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to loose her mind to grief. As they continued through the room, Saliah stopped. She tilted her head up to listen and then looked behind her.

“What is it?” Dorian asked stepping in close to her.

“There are no guards anywhere. We’ve gone through most of this dungeon and there are no guards on duty.” Saliah replied. “Why wouldn’t they guard them?” She motioned to the group of glowing companions.

“Evidently, they didn’t pose a threat after awhile.” Dorian said, looking back at them and then to Saliah.

Saliah took a deep breath and let it out slowly, steeling herself. “Oh, that asshole is going to _wish_ he had just killed me when he had the opportunity.” Saliah growled under her breath, turning her head to continue forward.

The cell closest to the entrance radiated a brighter red light than what she had seen in any of the other cells. Approaching it carefully, Saliah peered in and recoiled in disgust. Co-joined with a huge mass of red Lyrium, was a barely alive Fiona. The Lyrium around her had grown into most of her body. Only part of her head and torso were free of it. Fiona opened her eyes at the commotion of their approach.

“You’re alive?” She asked in a weak whisper. “How? I saw you thrown into the rift.” Saliah realized that the woman was barely lucid, and didn’t have long. There was no saving her.

“Fiona, what’s happened to you?” Dorian asked.

“Red Lyrium. The longer you are exposed to it, this happens. It takes longer for some than others.” She rattled dryly. “Eventually, it kills you and they harvest your corpse.”

“Fiona, can you tell us what has happened?” Saliah asked, working to subdue her abhorrence at what was done to the poor woman.

“After you fell, Alexius continued his work for the Elder One. The Elder One ripped open the Breach and launched a war on Orlais, killing Empress Celene and invading the south.” She paused to breathe. “His demon army has killed everyone and everything. There’s nothing left.”

“Can you tell us the date? It’s very important.” Dorian pressed.

“17 Harvestmere,” Fiona croaked, “9:42 Dragon.”

“So, exactly one year. That’s good, right?” Saliah muttered to Dorian.

“Well, we have a date and year. It’s better than nothing. Maker, we’ve missed a year and all this has transpired!” Dorian looked terrified. “I should be able to take us back in time to prevent this.” Dorian’s face changed from terrified to determined. Saliah echoed his sentiment.

“Where did the demon army come from, Fiona?” Saliah asked urgently.

“From the Fade.” Fiona whispered. She panted for breath and continued. “Your Spymaster is here. Find her. She may know more.” Her lucidity stopped as she rambled about the mages harvesting Lyrium, the abominations she’d seen. She kept babbling nonsense until she suddenly became very serious and looked Saliah dead in the eyes. “Please, stop this from happening. The Elder One—no one challenges him and lives. He is more powerful than the Maker. Hurry, before he knows you’re here.” She closed her eyes with those words. Saliah wasn’t sure if she was dead or exhausted. She didn’t want to find out, for fear of what it would do to her edging temper.

“What is in the next room, Dorian?” Saliah asked.

“An antechamber of sorts, it’s a causeway suspended over a ravine.”

“We need to find Leliana.” Saliah replied.

“Saliah, we need to get both of you back.” Blackwall said, his voice bordering on panic.

Saliah turned to him. “You’re right. But I need to get as much information about this future so I can make sure it never happens. Leliana will know.” She said gently but firmly. Blackwall slowly nodded his head in response. While he and Cassandra had been mostly silent, their looks of abject fear told Saliah all she needed to know about this future. She needed to prevent it.

“Let Dorian and me clear the room, then come in.” Saliah looked to the three of them.

“No! Saliah, we just got you back.” Cassandra breathed.

“Yes, and all three of you are weakened and have no weapons. I can’t worry about you and what I’m fighting.” Saliah responded. “Once we have you armed, we can all fight together.” She reached and squeezed Cassandra’s shoulder. The look on Cassandra’s face was of begrudging relent.

Saliah went to the door, closed her eyes, and listened. After a moment, she heard three sets of footsteps, two chinking in time with shifting chainmail. _No heavy armor on them. That fucking Magister is cocksure, isn’t he—_ she thought to herself. She walked back to the group and relayed what she heard.

“The softer steps were likely a mage. From what Fiona babbled, they’re everywhere.” Dorian guessed.

The two agreed that she would focus on the mage first and then help Dorian with the two armored guards. Saliah and Dorian went to the door, Saliah not stopping to shove the door into the other room. As expected, there were two guards in chainmail and a mage who were stunned at the intrusion.

Saliah made straight for the mage, stalking quickly like a focused cat of prey. In one continuous motion, she punched a guard that came at her while pulling her maul forward with the other hand. She smirked as she heard the guard fall to the ground as she continued forward. The female mage facing her hurriedly readied a spell and cast it. Saliah didn’t break her gaze as she dodged the thunderbolt.  As Saliah neared her with a look of primal fury, the mage started screaming and backed up to the door at the other end of the causeway. As the mage fumbled with the knob behind her, Saliah skipped for momentum and swung her weapon with both hands at the woman’s head. The woman’s unprotected head splattered against the door, her twitching body slumping to the ground.

Saliah turned to find two charred corpses and Dorian inspecting his hands for filth. Behind him, her gaunt trio emerged through the door. Saliah quickly grabbed the staff off the mage’s body and made for them.

“Maker, it’s good to see you fighting.” Cassandra smiled. Saliah gathered the weapons off the two corpses and handed the armaments to her friends. She quickly looked around to survey the strange room. It was as Dorian had described: an antechamber of sorts, a very dank antechamber. It had doors leading in four directions, with a suspended floor that hung over a deep hole. She wondered how and why the room came to be in this way.

“You all clean?” She taunted dryly as she looked to Dorian, who was still grooming his hands.

“These hands will suffer time but not filth, my dear.” Dorian said to her in a smug tone.

“Cute.” Saliah said flatly. She heard Solas give an exasperated sigh. “Solas, can you cast healing magic on yourself and the others?” Saliah asked, wanting to be productive. She knew their nerves her far more frayed than hers.

Nodding, Solas quickly cast a healing circle over himself and the others. While they didn’t look at full health, they did look better. Saliah was relieved to see it.

Just then, they heard choruses of screams coming from the area behind the door to the right of them. Saliah and her companions all ran towards the direction of the sound. Opening the door, they ran up the wide staircase to a hallway lined with more doors.

 

The screeches and grunts of pain came from all directions, each one distinct and harrowing to hear. Following the choruses of pain, demands came from other voices. All of the accusing voices were demanding information, supplication, or compliance. Then, as if rehearsed, the screams started again. Saliah was shaken to her core by it. Her companions’ reactions were different flavors of the same dread.

“It’s a torture tactic. The victims all hear one another scream, making them weaker against their torturers.” Blackwall said dispassionately.

“How do you know that?” Saliah said, trying to keep calm. Blackwall only cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head in response.

Standing there, hearing the commotion, one thing became clear to Saliah. Either clear each room and save each person, or find the room that held Leliana. She loathed the decision she was about to make. _When I make it back, this will never happen_. She tried to comfort herself with the silent affirmation.

“We cannot save them. We must find Leliana.” Saliah said vacantly.

“What? Saliah, these people—” Cassandra started.

“I know.” Saliah said, her face contorted in guilt. “But, I can’t risk Dorian or myself with each encounter. We can’t afford it…” Saliah couldn’t believe the choice she was making. In all of her years of training, nothing had prepared her for this.

Cassandra stared at her, astonished by what she said. In response, Saliah turned and moved forward, flinching at every new round of cries and wails. She noticed that there were no Lyrium growths in this wing of the castle. A realization that only made her more sickened: it dawned on her that the people in the dungeons were being singularly used to mine the substance.

They came to a door at the end of the hallway. “You’re wasting your breath.” A familiar sing-song voice said defiantly, from the other side of the door.

“Talk, you cunt, the Elder One demands answers!” A rough male voice said from within the room. The next sounds were a loud slap and a grunt of pain. It made Saliah’s blood boil.

She heard the Leliana’s voice laugh angrily in response. “He will get used to disappointment.”

“You will break!”

“I will die first.”

Saliah burst through the door; abruptly stopping at she saw in the room before her. It was a storage room, evidenced by the sacks of armor and weapon supplies strewn about and the simple furniture. Leliana was hanging by her wrists from a wooden beam. Near her, a haggard and skinny body of a man also hung, with shards of red Lyrium protruding from his wounded abdomen. Both were in their small clothes. From what she could see, Leliana was badly bruised and beaten. There was very little of her that wasn’t covered in wounds and gnarly scabs. Leliana’s attacker was a lean, armored, and helmed man. He stood surprised, holding a long blade in his hand.

After instantly recognizing Saliah, Leliana lifted herself and wrapped her legs around her attacker’s neck. “Or you will.” She snarled as she suffocated him and snapped his neck. A spent Leliana hung there helplessly as the body fell.

“You’re alive!” Leliana whispered as Saliah ran to her and helped her down. Leliana stared at her for a beat.

“We never died.” Saliah replied. “And I’m going to make sure this never happens.” Saliah motioned to Cassandra to get Leliana some clothing as Saliah helped steady Leliana. Now that she was in front of her Saliah saw that Leliana’s face was stricken, her cheeks were hollowed by starvation and the scars from third degree burns covered her all over.

“Alexius threw us forward one year in time.” Dorian explained. “We are going to find him, get the amulet he used and go back to our time. That’s the short version, anyway.”

“And people wonder why no one trusts mages.” Leliana growled as Cassandra handed her some under armor and chain mail. “No one should have that kind of power.”

“The amulet will be destroyed once we return.” Dorian said in a determined tone.

As Leliana dressed and bickered with Dorian, Saliah went to the man that was still hanging. Holding up his head, Saliah’s color drained from her face.

“Cullen!” She cried. Cullen’s eyes fluttered. “Blackwall, help me get him down!” Saliah called over her shoulder.

“I thought he was dead.” Leliana said emotionlessly as Saliah and Blackwall pulled him from his shackles and gently laid his broken body onto one of the tables. The shards of the Lyrium crackled as Saliah gently lifted him onto the table.

He looked sepulchral. The man that Saliah knew to be intimidating in size and strength was now reduced to near nothing. His skin was grey and clammy. His formerly golden hair was now dull and dry like straw. Seeing her Commander reduced to this made Saliah realize that she forgave him unequivocally and wish that she hadn’t left things the way she had. The butterflies in her stomach now mixed with anger she could barely hold back.

“Saliah?” Cullen croaked weakly.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Saliah said gently as she cradled his head. She leaned in close and put her forehead to his and closed her eyes. “I’m here, Cullen.” She kissed him between his eyebrows as her hair draped over the two of them.

“Thank the Maker.” He whispered to her. She pulled her head back to see him smiling weakly at her, his eyes now fully open. Her heart pulled when she saw that the light was nearly gone from the dark amber eyes. He started to pull his arm up, but grunted and flinched in pain.

“Stay still, dearest.” Saliah said quietly, forcing a small smile as she smoothed his cheek with her thumb. She knew he didn’t have long.

Tossing her hair aside she looked at Leliana. “What happened to him?” She demanded.

“They tortured all of us, in different ways. The Elder One does not suffer rivals.” Leliana replied.

“Why does he have shards of Lyrium in him? It’s not growing anywhere in this room.”

“They put it in him. They wanted to see what would happen.”

Saliah was nauseated by the horror of it. “Why!” She exclaimed, cradling his head closer to her.

“Because, they wanted to see how one who stopped taking Lyrium would react to the red type.” Leliana replied factually.

“He stopped taking it? When?” Saliah was shocked.

“Before you joined the Inquisition.” Cassandra replied.

Saliah looked back and forth between the two women, feeling incredibly guilty and stupid for the resentment she had held against him. “Oh, Cullen—” she began, turning back to him. His eerie stillness and open eyes were all she could see. She was struck dumb to see that he was dead.

_This Trevelyan let you die._

The thought sped through her head and her heart, echoing everywhere in her psyche, as she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him goodbye.

Her core boiled over in fury and pain as she pulled her lips back, her face still inches from his. Loosing Cullen and Varric, seeing what her world had become was more than she could take. Her mind and body became strangely calm and focused as her livid rage took hold. She gently lowered his head and reached back to pull her hair into its knot. Somewhere in the back of her memory, Saliah remembered her Grandfather warning her against loosing herself to the rage. She knew now that she was dangerously close to the precipice.

She slowly, almost mechanically, stood and turned to the others. “Solas, heal Leliana as much as you can. Leliana, find your preferred weapon.” Saliah commanded harshly as she started for the door. “This ends, _now_.” She quietly rumbled.

The group made its way down the long hallway of screams quickly, Saliah leading the way at a half walk/half trot pace.

“Where is Alexius?” Saliah asked.

“Likely in his chambers.” Leliana replied.

Saliah stopped. “Leliana, I have no time for guessing. Do you know that for a fact?” Saliah stared her down.

Leliana shook her head. 

Saliah blew the air out of her lungs sharply and kept moving.

As they neared the entrance to the antechamber, a group of three guards and one mage were hurrying up the stairway. Seeing the quintet, they pulled their weapons in unison with Saliah. The fight went quickly.

“Keep that one alive!” Saliah commanded to Cassandra over a chorus of tortured screams from the rooms. Cassandra stopped her deathblow on a prone soldier. Saliah marched over and grabbed the soldier by his collar and dragged him down the stairs and into the antechamber. She moved quickly, using the fresh round of cries as cover.

Saliah threw the man over her head, into the empty antechamber. He landed with a loud crash. Saliah ran and jumped to the man, landing with her feet on either side of him. Squatting down, she ripped his helm off of his head and found a young redheaded man with eyes wide in fear staring back at her.

Dropping to her knees, Saliah put her face inches from his. With eyes wild in barbaric rage, Saliah smiled savagely at him as she put her hands on his face. Her thumbs sat right on his cheekbones

“Hello.” She said with that disturbing smile, in an eerie calm. “Here is my proposal: you’re going to tell me where Alexius is, or I am going _to break every bone in your face_. Slowly. Your jaw will be last.”

The man looked at her aghast and then started to whimper. He looked around wildly, and then back to her face. “He’s in the throne room!” The young man begged. “He’s awaiting the Elder One’s arrival. They know you’re here.”

“Do they, now?” Saliah asked, cocking her head to the side. Turning to Dorian’s shocked face, she asked, “Do you know where that is?”

Dorian only nodded and pointed to one of the other doors. She looked back to the solider. “Good.” She said.

She began to stand. In the same motion, she grabbed his face and the back of his head and twisted, snapping his neck by the time she was on her feet. “Let’s go!” She shouted over her shoulder. Her companions followed in silence.

 

The itching in her branded hand turned into a searing pain that shot up her arm as they went through the door into the courtyard. Saliah dropped to her knees, screaming from the surprise and the pain. Looking up, Saliah was stunned to see the Breach had grown to fill the whole sky. Pieces of the castle were suspended in mid-air, defying gravity.

“The Breach! It’s—” Saliah grunted in pain.

“Everywhere.” Dorian said with a voice of fear and wonder mixed.

“They veil is shattered. Nothing stands between the Fade and here.” Solas said as he walked over and helped Saliah up. “Does it hurt like it did before?”

Saliah swallowed hard and nodded.

“Then the mark will consume you.” Solas said hollowly.

“Then I don’t have much time. Dorian, lead the way.” Saliah muttered, holding her hand against her chest.

Dorian led the group to a hallway at the end of the long courtyard. Out from direct sight of the Breach, Saliah’s hand stopped hurting a bit, but the pain was there. The group ran down a side hallway that led further into the castle. The décor became more ornate the further in they went; Saliah knew they were nearing Alexius. She pulled her maul from its perch.

“ _ALEXIUS!_ ” Saliah roared as they entered the throne room. Alexius was standing beside a large fire in the room’s hearth.

“And here you are, finally. My final failure.” Alexius said without turning around and leaning on his mage’s staff.

Saliah stalked quickly to him, her core white-hot in anger.

“I knew you would appear again. Not that it would be now. But, I knew you weren’t dead.” He said, turning around to meet her.

“How sad for you.” Saliah grunted sarcastically, putting her hammer head-down next to her. She leaned against it slightly.

“The Elder One knows you are here, now. He has sent his army to collect you. I will deliver you to him! It will be my final act of penance to my master!” Alexius cried wildly.

At that moment, Leliana appeared out of the shadows with Felix, a very sad and pathetic looking Felix. The last year had not been kind on the withered shell of the man he once was. She had a knife blade at his jugular. “Give us the amulet.” The Spymaster demanded.

Alexius chuckled ruefully. “Or what? My son’s fate is tied to my own. Neither of us will live to see tomorrow.”

“Or I will slit his throat and you will watch him die.” Leliana rasped.

Alexius face went pallid, looking back and forth between Leliana and Saliah. Saliah stepped closer to him, her hammer moving in step with her as she swung it against the ground. Her nose and lips twitched as if to snarl and she bore her eyes into him. “You didn’t save him after all, did you Alexius? So sad. However, no one should deserve to live like this.” She gave a motion to Leliana and at once Felix’s throat was cut from ear to ear.

“NO!” Alexius screamed, readying his staff and pulling the amulet in the same motion. Saliah, in response, swung her hammer and knocked his staff away. She lunged, immediately catching Alexius by the neck with her branded hand and raised him a few inches above the ground.

“Drop the amulet.” Saliah demanded.

He looked down at her with a look of surprise and defiance. He tried to mumble his spell in rebellion as he struggled to free himself. Saliah tightened her grip around his throat, choking him.

“I said: drop the amulet.”

He furrowed his brow and stared her down. She tightened her grip harder, making his skin begin to turn a shade of purple. His eyes started rolling to the back of his head as his hand limply dropped the item she and Dorian needed so badly. She lessened her grip slightly, letting the color in his face return to normal. Alexius gasped for air. Saliah then pulled him close to her, so that his ear was next to her mouth.

“I look forward to killing you twice for what you’ve done to my world.” She whispered. She tightened her grip on his throat until she heard his bones crack and felt his windpipe give. Releasing him, she watched his body slump to the ground. Grabbing the amulet, Saliah turned and tossed it gently to Dorian, who caught it one-handed.

“Maker, tell past me to never piss you off!” Blackwall stated flatly.

Saliah smirked. “Dorian, how long do you need?”

“This looks like the same amulet we made in Minrathous. Give me an hour to figure out what spell he used and we should be ready.” Dorian replied.

Just then, a chorus of ungodly roars and animalistic growls came from just beyond the throne room walls. The room shook as though it were caught in an earthquake.

“An hour! We don’t have time! You must go now! He has arrived!” Leliana exclaimed looking about with wild eyes.

“You cannot stay here.” Solas said, looking to his withered companions. They all shared a knowing glance.

“We will hold the outer door. When they get past us, it will be your turn.” Cassandra said, turning to Leliana.

Leliana turned to Saliah and Dorian, “You will have as much time as I have arrows.”

“Then we’d better get this right.” Saliah said, pulling Dorian to the opposite end of the room. She looked back at all of them. “You will not ever live like this. I swear it on all that is holy.”

“Well, you’re the Herald, so you’d know about holy.” Blackwall said over his shoulder with a smile. Saliah smiled back.

Dorian looked studied the amulet and his spell book for a beat.

Saliah looked behind her to see that the door had been pushed open. A huge pride demon, flanked on either side by soldiers, squared off against Leliana. She shot her bow as she recited the Chant of Light until they came too close. Saliah had never seen the beauty of her fighting style. She was elegant, lethal, always moving. Saliah had an urge to join her, but instead she looked back to Dorian who had begun to chant.

Looking up to Saliah, Dorian grabbed her hand, held the amulet in the other, and said something in an alien tongue. Green light shot around her. A hole opened where there was nothing before. Dorian ran through it, leading her in.

 

They were, at once, back in the room that was—as evidenced by a very alive Alexius staring them in the face. Saliah screamed as she rushed him, pinning him to the stone floor.

“Boss!” The Iron Bull shouted, not really sure what had just happened. They were there, then they weren’t, then they were again. Only when they came back, Saliah was covered in blood and filth, and had a look in her eyes that made him uneasy.

“I told you I would kill you _twice_.” Saliah said viciously, digging her fingers into the confused Magister’s shoulders as she straddled him. She pulled her hammer and made to bludgeon Alexius in the face with its pommel

The Iron Bull rushed over and caught the handle before she could end him. “HERALD!” He bellowed at her. He knew he was the only one with a chance to hold her back if she was as bad as he feared.

“WHAT!” Saliah roared back and looked up. Her eyes went from pure fury to surprise. “Bull?” She blinked and looked around as he pulled her hammer away from her. Her arms fell into her lap. She saw that she was back in the present.

“You alright, Boss?” The Bull asked.

A sizzle came from behind Saliah. She turned to see Dorian destroying two amulets. “One from now and one from the future. That should close the loop that was caused by this… I hope.” Dorian said, looking at her. Saliah slumped back and smiled, still sitting on top of the Magister, feeling washed in relief.

“The amulet! Dorian!” Alexius grunted from under her. Saliah snapped to face him and punched him in the face, knocking him out.

“Shut the fuck up, you monster.” She growled as she stood and took her hammer back from her friend. She patted Bull on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Bull.” She said quietly, composing herself.

“Uh, sure.” The Iron Bull replied, very confused.

“What happened?” Cassandra said as she rushed to them.

Saliah was silent as she watched Varric saunter up to the group. Before she could stop herself, she ran and dropped to her knees in front of the dwarf. She snatched him to her and buried her head into his shoulder.

“Damn, Beautiful! I mean, I’m flattered, but aren’t you into tall, blond, former Templars?” Varric said in a surprised tone. She just hugged him harder.

“Beautiful, you have to let go. I can’t breathe.” Varric strained to say. Saliah released him at once. He took a deep breath and chuckled as he looked at her.  She grinned in response as she stood.

Looking around, Saliah beamed when she saw all of her companions alive and well. She also saw the First Enchanter and Felix standing nearby. Looking behind her, she saw Inquisition guards shackle and restrain the unconscious Magister.

“Bull,” she began as her face became solemn, “I’ll need Krem to get a message to the lieutenant. The Chargers and the troops will have to lead the mages back. We,” she motioned to her immediate companions, “will ride ahead to so that we get to Haven tonight. The mages’ preparations transport will slow us down and we need to get back as soon as possible.”

“Will do, Boss.”

“Herald, what happened?” Cassandra asked urgently.

“I will tell all of you of what Dorian and I saw, just not here.” Saliah replied quietly. “Too many ears.”

Cassandra and the rest of the companions nodded in response.

“First Enchanter, we will need your assistance closing the Breach. Will you and your followers join us?” Saliah asked, motioning to Fiona to come closer.

“What are the terms of this agreement?” Fiona asked as she walked over.

“You will join the Inquisition as conscripted allies, for now, and come with us to Haven. Once the Breach is closed, we can help you figure out the next steps.” Saliah replied in an official tone.

“Seems a better deal than what the Magister gave you.” Dorian quipped.

“I will agree to these terms.” Fiona said.

“Good, then please make your people ready for travel.” Saliah said. She was relieved that Fiona was not going to fight her on this.

"Well, I’m glad that’s over with!” Dorian chirped as he walked over to Saliah.

Saliah pulled her hammer when the doors of the throne room flew open. Two-dozen Fereldan soldiers, in full ceremonial plate mail, marched into the room. Coming in behind them was a man in very fine garbs. Saliah wondered if this was the Arl.

“Or, not.” Dorian observed. 

“Grand Enchanter, we’d like to discuss your abuse of my hospitality.” The man said, striding to Fiona.

“Your majesty.” Fiona stammered. “I—”

 _Majesty? This man is King of Ferelden?_ Saliah thought, realizing that this was the fabled Alistair Theirin. The King who was once a Grey Warden and who stood in the face of an archdemon. And, the man who found Cullen after the circle fell. Saliah raised her eyebrows as she put her weapon away.

“When I offered the mages sanctuary, I did not give them leave to drive my people out of their homes.” The King said harshly with a grim face.

“King Alistair, I assure you—we never intended…” Fiona replied weakly as she wringed her hands.

“You, and your followers, have worn out your welcome. Leave Ferelden or I will be forced to make you leave.” The King threatened.

“That won’t be necessary, your majesty.” Saliah called out to him as she walked up. She nodded to Fiona as she stood with her. “You see, the mages have agreed to join the Inquisition. We were making arrangements for their departure as you arrived.”

“And who are you, may I ask?” The King asked curtly.

“Lady Saliah of House Trevelyan, of the Free Marches, my lord.” Saliah curtsied deeply to him. She wondered how ridiculous she must look, curtsying while covered in blood and in her armor. 

“I see, and what business does someone of the Marches have with a Fereldan issue?” There was a hint of threat in the man’s voice as he sized her up.

“Your Majesty, I am not here on behalf of my house or of my country. I am here as an agent of the Inquisition.” Saliah replied pleasantly. “And while I am not at liberty to speak of this openly, I am sure you've noticed that I've recently been...well, occupied. I am happy to have my colleague, Sister Leliana,” she shot him a knowing glance, “contact you with full details. In the meantime, allow me to take these people back to Haven. You have my word, and indeed the word of the Inquisition, that no more harm will come to the people of Ferelden.” Hearing Leliana’s name uttered changed the King’s face. Saliah wasn’t sure what she saw there, but she could guess that he was aware of her current activities.

“And I should gamble with my people’s safety on your word, Lady Saliah?” The King asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Why?”

“Because I am the Herald of Andraste.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter was meant to break Saliah and rebuild her, from a slightly petulant young woman to a full-forged warrior who can lead a movement. It was harder than I thought, since I don't want Saliah to loose herself. 
> 
> At one point, I had to stop writing this for a minute to cry my eyes out about, well-- yeah, that. OMG! I can't believe how hard that was!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. I'm really proud of how dark I made this chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! I am astounded that so many people have read and liked this! Knowing that what I'm putting out there is good makes me want to write better. Feedback, as always, is welcome :D


	12. Titanium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of Redcliffe, Saliah and her team make ready for the mages and what's to come. 
> 
> Also, Saliah gets her head out of her ass ;)

Without the whole Company, the trip back to Haven took a little more than three hours. Granted, they had been running the horses at a near constant canter or gallop. Considering all that Saliah had lived through in the last few hours, it seemed unreal that she was now about to come back to the small village that had become her home. Beyond the relatively mundane place to where she was returning, she was aporetic of the news she was going to deliver. She could still barely believe what she had lived through. The images of what transpired would flash at their own will, through her mind, causing her shivers up her spine.

She looked behind her again to make sure that Varric and all of her companions were still there. Her gesture was met with expectant looks from most of her party, save for Cassandra and Varric, whose faces were painted with concern.

“They’re fine, darling, I promise.” Dorian said few miles out of town. Saliah knew she had been beyond obsessive in making sure they were still there. “Are you alright, is my concern.” Dorian caught her gaze as she turned around.

“Well, I don’t really have the option to be anything other than mostly alright.” Saliah said, looking at him. “I’m still sorting it all out. What we witnessed, Dorian, it’s…” Saliah turned and faced the road, shaking her head.

“Indeed.” Dorian replied, looking back to the road before them.

“How about you, Dorian, are you alright?”

“The same, I’m afraid; except that I have lovely notes of guilt and responsibility in my tune.” Dorian replied with a pained expression on his face.

“You couldn’t have known that—” Saliah began, trying to comfort him.

“Yes, I could have. I should have, anyway. Time travel, that level of power over anything, has few other endgames.” Dorian cut her off as he shook his head. Saliah could only imagine what was going through his mind.

As they approached the stables, Saliah saw Cullen shouting to a group of officers and trainees in one of the nearer training fields. She nearly burst with joy to see him going about his work, oblivious to her return. Her face broke into an open grin as the late afternoon sun bounced off him like life itself, as far as she was concerned. Just as her heart began to beat faster, flashes of his dead face stabbed it. She remembered the cold sensation of kissing him in death, the disturbing stillness of his body, the near complete rage she went into at loosing him. Her face fell solemn from the memory just as he looked over and noticed them.

His face broke into a guarded smile when he saw her, nodding his head in a silent greeting. The smile quickly faded as his face took on a look of alarm and his eyes darted around. Saliah was sure he saw her bloodied armor and was looking for the rest of the Company. He quickly said something to one of his officers and came running down the path to meet them. Saliah urged her horse into a trot so as to meet him half way.

“My lady,” Cullen breathed as they closed the gap, “are you alright? Where is the rest of the Company?” He looked her over, the furrow on his brow deepening.

“Everything is alright, Commander.” Saliah relished saying those words to him more than she could have imagined. “The rest of the Company and the Chargers stayed in Redcliffe to prepare and transport the mages.”

His eyebrows arched. “How many are we expecting?” He asked.

“A little over 300.” Cassandra replied, trotting up to them on her horse. Saliah was thankful that she wasn’t going to bear the brunt of Cullen’s reaction alone.

Cullen opened his mouth and then quickly shut it. He turned behind him to the camp, and then to Saliah and Cassandra quickly. He put his hands on his bastard sword and clenched the pommel, his gloves making small groaning sounds as the leather dragged over the pommel’s steel. His eyes went from surprised, to quizzical, to anxious, and then finally settled on incensed. Saliah was mildly amused with herself that she knew all the looks, but kept her face stoic. It was all she could do not to break into a stupidly enormous grin. But, she knew that would just make him angrier.

“Have the two of you lost your minds? We don’t have the means to control 300 mages. There aren’t enough Templars.” Cullen’s said intensely but measured. His ability to control his tone was astounding.

“That is what is arriving in less than two days, Commander, like it or not.” Cassandra replied, urging her horse to walk.

Cullen walked alongside her. “That may be, Cassandra, but—”

“Commander,” Saliah called. He stopped and turned, shooting her a look that she didn’t know how to take. Then it dawned on her that Cullen might still be upset with her for her behavior. Given everything that had happened to her, Saliah had almost forgotten about how she had treated him. The realization made her frown.

“There’s more to this than simply mages.” Cassandra said, finishing Saliah’s thought.

“We need to meet in the war room, now.” Saliah said as the rest of her companions caught up. “All of us.” She motioned around her.

Cullen’s eyebrows shot up again. “Alright, my lady. I believe the Ambassador and Sister Leliana are already there.”

“Good. ” Saliah said, her voice hardening at the memory of it all.

 

The air in the war room was unusually close, given the 11 people gathered. There was an air of expectance from her group.

“What were you thinking, turning 300 mages loose with no oversight?” Cullen demanded as the centuries closed the door. His anger was aimed at both Saliah and Cassandra.

“We need them to close the Breach, Commander, you know this.” Josephine retorted. “Besides, they are already on their way. To change course now would make us seem incompetent at best.”

“Our implied competence is not my concern, Ambassador.” Cullen said, turning to her. “Our safety, however, is. There will be abominations among the mages, and we do not have the means to be properly prepared!”

“We will have to trust the mages to not give to madness, and the Templars to watch them well.” Saliah said evenly. “Make them work together. It wouldn’t be the first time that it would happen, Commander.” Saliah looked at him as if he were the only person in the room. She hoped he knew that she said that in support of him.

Cullen gave her a mixed look. “We don’t yet have the numbers, Herald, and given the amount of stress these people have been under—”

“You’re right, we may have some abominations.” Saliah cut in and conceded. “We will make do though, Commander. I trust that you will guide the Inquisition’s Templars to be vigilant and even-handed.”

“Herald, I am sure that you did not ask your companions here to listen to one of our bicker sessions.” Leliana spoke up. Saliah could tell she had been reading the room and felt the strange mood.

“Yes, you’re right.” Saliah said, braiding her fingers. She looked to Dorian. He nodded and smiled his support to her, and then walked up and stood next to her. Saliah took a deep breath to collect her thoughts and heel her emotions. “Alexius’ spell threw Dorian and me one year forward in time.” She stopped and looked at her audience. They were muted by the announcement.

Taking another deep breath, Saliah began from when she drowned the guard and told the gathered audience nearly everything. She was careful to leave out Cullen’s death, for fear of outing his Lyrium secret. She silently admitted to herself that she also didn’t have the presence of mind to relive his death in front of everyone. For the first time in her life, Saliah wished she were a Bard, instead of a warrior, so that she could adequately relay the depths of darkness that she and Dorian witnessed.

When she finished, she looked to her gathered companions and advisors to see a mix of faces, all sharing the same look: abject horror. Varric’s face was especially grim at hearing of his own death in detail.

Cullen grimaced. “My lady, what you’re describing is…”

“The wholesale destruction of southern Thedas, Commander. I know. Part of me still can’t believe it.” Saliah replied quietly. “But, it won’t happen. Not on my watch.” Saliah set her jaw.

“This dark future you describe,” Leliana said, staring at the floor, “this demon army…”

“The assassination of Empress Celene.” Josephine blurted out, staring at the war map on the enormous oak table.

“I’m ashamed to say that this sounds just like something a Tevinter cult _would_ do. Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone.” Dorian said in a quipping tone. The group in the room, except Saliah and Cassandra, gave him a withering look. Dorian shook his head and crossed his arms. “We both saw what this cult could do. But not all of us from Tevinter want that for this world.” Dorian continued somberly. “That future will not come to pass.”

“No, it won’t.” Saliah agreed. “First things first, we need to close the Breach as soon as possible. I don’t know how much time we have until the Elder One will try to open it again.” The room nodded in agreement. “Dorian, Solas, and Lady Vivienne.” Saliah’s tone turned to one of command. “I will need the three of you to work together to develop whatever ritual or spell that will close it. If we have 300 mages’ worth of magical energy, let’s put it to good use. They will be here in about two days, so you have that long to prepare. Then, we’ll have a few more days to work with them, and then we close the Breach. The most time I am comfortable giving you is a week.”

“Gladly, my dear.” Dorian responded in his musical tone. “Solas, I think we should go to the Breach at once so I can get a better look at it and you can share what you know.”

“I would be happy to.” Solas said as he quickly glanced at Saliah. “But first, I will have inspect Saliah’s hand to see if the time lapse affected it at all.”

“No doubt this Elder One will already know of Alexius’ failure.” Leliana mused. The rest of the advisors nodded in agreement.

“Saliah, darling,” Vivienne spoke up in that tone that set Saliah’s teeth on edge. “You can’t honestly expect me to work with a Magis--…”

“A Magister and an Apostate?” Saliah cut her off, her eyes flashing. “Yes, I do. Solas knows more about the Fade and this mark,” she shot her hand up, “than anyone here. You know the Circle’s magical traditions better than anyone here. Dorian is a powerful enough mage to develop magic that _alters time_. I can think of no better trio to make sure that I am put to good use. This is not court, Vivienne; this is war. And I have little patience for that attitude.” Vivienne didn’t respond, but her eyes were making daggers at Saliah.

“Closing the Breach first is all that matters.” Cassandra said, staring Vivienne down. Vivienne looked between the two of them and crossed her arms, shifting her weight indignantly.

“Yes, of course. I am fully aware of what’s at stake. So long as the Circle’s traditions are observed, then I will gladly help.” Vivienne replied in a formal tone.

Saliah gave her a curt nod of her head. “The rest of us, for now,” Saliah turned to the group, “will help the Commander ready accommodations for our new arrivals.”

“Thank you, my lady. As they say, no rest for the wicked.” The Commander replied with a small smile. He went on to give them tasks and errands for requisitions they would need to gather.

As the group dispersed from the meeting, Saliah walked over to Leliana. “Sister,” she started. At once, the phantom of her future face cut through Saliah’s mind. She sucked her breath.

“It will take awhile to manage the memories of such a horror, Saliah.” Leliana said, giving her a knowing look. “I’m sorry that you had to live through that, and I am glad that you made it back.” She squeezed Saliah’s shoulder.

“It’s just so strange. I watched you die.” Saliah breathed. “You fought beautifully and bravely.”

“And I would again.” Leliana said in soft and confident tone.

“Well, for now I simply request your connections.” Saliah said awkwardly, forcing a smile. Leliana gave her a confused look. Saliah told her of the confrontation with Alistair. Given Leliana’s face as she finished her report, Saliah fully expected Leliana to chide her. Instead, she started giggling.

“How is that funny?” Saliah asked incredulously.

“I’m quite fond of the King and the thought of you and Alistair negotiating is very funny. I’m sorry,” Leliana straightened her face, “when I traveled with him, he was a very irreverent man with few social graces. Thinking of him doing anything official just makes me smile. So, what would you like me to do with his majesty?” Her eyes twinkled.

“I would like you to send him information on everything that we know about the Elder One and about what happened in the future. I think it’s only right that he know; Ferelden has as much at stake as Orlais. And, if he already knows you, he’ll trust you and maybe we’ll get an ally out of this.” Saliah wasn’t sure how Leliana would take her request.

Leliana looked at Saliah thoughtfully for a beat. Her face was inscrutable. “I think that’s very wise, my lady Herald. I will personally send him a raven today.”

“Thank you, Leliana.” Saliah replied genuinely. She smiled and turned to leave.

“I hope,” Leliana continued. Saliah turned back to her. “That same wisdom will prevail between you and the Commander.”

Saliah hung her head and sighed. She wasn’t surprised that Leliana knew about what had transpired. “Leliana, I—” she began.

Leliana quickly held her hand up. “I don’t need to know the details of it, Saliah. That is between Cullen and you. All I will say is that I hope you can begin to understand what he went through before we found him. And with that understanding, know why it took him so long to tell you.”

“I do.” Saliah muttered, not making eye contact. She knew she needed to apologize to him, but admitted silently that she didn’t know where to begin.

Leliana strode past her quietly, exiting the room. She stopped, looked at Saliah and gently smiled. “You’ve come a very long way, Herald, in many ways. I’m glad that you’re here, and I know I am not the only one.”

 

The next few days found Saliah busily working on the mages’ arrival. She knew that Haven, and the Inquisition, had never received a group so large at once, so there was much to do. Her resolve to do all she could to prepare and be useful was driven, at all times, by her determination to not let the events of the future she saw transpire.

While her time was primarily focused on the logistics of the mages’ lodging, Saliah made sure to meet and be present for Cullen and the Templars to discuss their watch over the magic users. While her discussions with Cullen and his men were pleasant and respectful, Saliah could tell that the mages made them nervous.

“Do the Templars honestly think they will all be possessed at once, Commander?” Saliah asked in a genuine tone, as the two of them left the gathered Templars in the camps. It was the afternoon of second day since they had returned, and she was very aware of the fact that this was the first time she had spoken to Cullen at length.

“My lady, you should know that many of these men and women are veterans of Kirkwall and the resulting war between these two factions. I think most of them joined the Inquisition believing that they wouldn’t have to continue guarding and fearing mages.” Cullen replied without making eye contact. His tone was distant and polite.

“I suppose I hadn’t considered that angle.” Saliah replied, feeling dull and stupid for not realizing that it wasn’t a blind, dogma-driven disdain they held. _These people have also suffered—_ Saliah thought to herself. She found the more she was around the men and women of the Order, the more she regretted her resentment for them.

“We will have to be prepared for both sides to distrust each other at first.” Cullen said, slowing his pace. He met Saliah’s gaze, and then quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m sure you will be able to make them see reason.” Saliah replied, offering a smile. She wondered if now was the moment to begin her apology. Just as she opened her mouth to change the subject, Cullen’s eyes met hers again. As with all times recently, his gaze was official; he was one of the Inquisition’s chief advisors, and she was their holy symbol. It was not the face of the man whom she held so dear.

“Yes, well, there’s really no other option.” Cullen replied, his tone still very polite and distant. He did not smile in response. “Thank you for coming with me to speak with them, Herald. Your presence there helped soothe them, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me, I have several new recruits to see to.” He bowed his head and quickly turned to leave, not giving Saliah the opportunity to respond.

Saliah hated the space between them that she had caused. While she had resolved to apologize and try and make things right with Cullen, she hadn’t found the time in the days since her return. As she walked back to the town’s square, the memories of finding him near dead flooded her. She shivered, pushing them from her mind, and set her self to find her own magical trio and check on their progress with their ritual. Before she made it through the gates, she spied a large group peeking over the lake. Seeing Krem and the rest of the Company, Saliah knew their new conscripts had arrived.

“Commander,” Saliah called to him. Cullen turned up from some newly found reports an aid had given him. As he did, Saliah saw the ghost of a smile wrinkling the scar on his lip. While she hoped he was smiling because she was calling to him, she knew she had to push their reconciliation out again. “They’re here.” Saliah continued, pointing to the group.

 

After many more hours working to settle the mages into their accommodations, Saliah found Varric and the Bull early that evening. The pair was making their way to the tavern, as was Saliah.

“Hey, Boss.” Bull said as she walked up. “Haven’t seen much of you since we got back.”

“I could say the same for the two of you.” Saliah smiled as she replied. “How are you?” She asked the two of them. The trio began walking down the path together.

“Well, I learned that I’m not going to be eaten alive by Red Lyrium, thanks to you, Beautiful.” Varric smiled as they walked. “So, I’m actually doing fine. I’ve been with the archers in the camp, making sure they don’t shoot themselves in the ass. Curly’s good with a sword, but, well—let’s just be happy he’s good with that.” The trio laughed.

“You sure? I can’t imagine that it was easy to hear, all that…future…stuff.” Saliah said awkwardly.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Varric smiled again. Saliah knew that he meant it, and was thankful. “How are you? Have you and Curly kissed and made up?” He elbowed her in the side with a wicked grin on his face.

“I—what?” Saliah felt herself blush. “I, uh, no. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him. With everything that we’ve had to do, I…” Saliah shifted her weight uncomfortably. She felt like she was making excuses and realized that she had been. She had been making herself very busy to avoid conversation, not only with Cullen but with her friends as well. “To be honest, I’ve not really been talking to anyone much, since we got back. I suppose I…just don’t know what to say. I saw…”

“It’s OK, Boss.” The Bull interrupted her in a surprisingly gentle tone. “You looked like crap when you and Dorian came back through that portal. I can’t imagine what you saw, let alone lived through. We’re all just glad that you came back, and that we can prevent it from happening.”

Saliah stopped walking and looked at them. Although the two couldn’t be more different, they shared an identical look of compassion for her. She guessed that they had been talking about her and were worried. Wordlessly, she pulled the two of them close and embraced them. Given the size differentials, it was an awkward embrace. But, her friends held her in it. The three of them silently acknowledged that their recent mission had changed the trajectory of everything; but they were still going to face it head-on. Saliah wished that Cassandra were there for the moment.

Ever the first to speak, Varric pulled away and smiled. “Well, now that we’re all set, you need to go talk to Curly, Saliah. I’m sure—”

“My dear, you haven’t gone to talk to him?” Dorian asked as he approached, hearing Varric’s comment.

“No.” Saliah said in a mildly annoyed tone. “Have you?” She asked sarcastically.

“My darling, I’m not the one in a lover’s quarrel.” Dorian replied. Saliah hated his wit in that moment.

Saliah sighed. “Dorian, don’t you have a ritual to be planning?”

“My dear, we’ve had it planned for a day.” Dorian puffed his chest out with pride.

“Really?” Saliah was surprised. “So quickly?”

“Yes. You were right to put the three of us together to plan this, despite Vivienne being so insufferable that Solas and I thought to kill her.”

The group laughed openly and loudly at Dorian’s comment.

“So, a lover’s quarrel, eh?” The Bull jabbed with a smile on his face, pulling the topic back to Cullen. Varric started laughing heartily again after seeing Saliah’s face.

“I’m not in a lover’s quarrel with him.” Saliah said defensively, rolling her eyes at them.  She knew they were playing, but the thought of Cullen being her lover was…well, she didn’t want to hold her breath. “I’m not even sure he wants my apology. I was pretty awful to him.” She admitted, mostly to herself.

“Well, you’re not going to know until you try.” Dorian tittered, refusing to let her mood become dark. “I recommend that you go to the tavern and buy a bottle of his favorite liquor, go to his tent, and… well, I’ll leave the rest to your judgment.” His face broke into the slyest of smiles.

“Oh, I like that idea.” The Bull chimed in. His eye patch was off-kilter from the huge grin on his face.

Saliah covered her face with her hands as she chuckled. Pulling them down her cheeks, she looked at these three men she loved like brothers. “You’re not going to stop until I deal with this, are you?”

“No.” The three replied in unison.

Saliah sighed, turned and walked to the tavern.

 

It was snowing when Saliah emerged from the tavern. She pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders, trying to manage with the bottle of Fereldan Rye she carried. Walking down the path to the camp, Saliah watched the snowflakes fall silently to the ground as she tried to plan out what she was going to say when she got to Cullen’s tent. While she was mildly annoyed at her friends’ insistence, she knew she had to face this sooner than later.

As she neared, she saw several campfires dotted around the area and heard the muffled sounds of conversation around them. It occurred to Saliah that she was only vaguely aware of which tent was Cullen’s. She felt awkward and uneasy, fully aware that this may be a fool’s errand. But, she knew she had to at least attempt to reconcile with Cullen. She desperately wanted him to know how sorry she was for everything she had said.

She reached what she assumed was his tent, since it was bigger than the others and had the Inquisition’s insignia embroidered into its side. She hesitated. Gathering her nerves, she scratched at the tent flap to announce her impromptu arrival.

“Who’s there?” Cullen’s voice called from the inside.

“Comman—” Saliah started and then hesitated. _Stop calling him by his title, you’re friends with this man! —_ She chided herself. “Cullen, it’s Saliah. May I come in?”

There was a long pause. Long enough that Saliah was worried she was going to be sent away. Her ears began to burn as she waited. She heard rustlings from within the tent.

“Please come in, Saliah.” Cullen said as he pulled tent flap aside and motioned for her to enter. He was pleased to see her, she thought, based on the warm baritone of his voice. It was not the tone he had taken with her earlier that day.

She smiled crookedly as she entered. “Thank you.” She replied.

They stood in the inside entrance of the tent, him looking down to her. She looked to him, remembering that he was somewhat taller than she was. He was out of his armor and wearing a woolen tunic and breeches. The tunic was finely made: a dark mahogany color, with a large silver badge of the Inquisition pinned to his chest. His hair was slightly tousled, as though he had recently run his fingers through it. There was a bit of it curling out over his temple. It took everything in her not to reach out and adjust it back with the rest of his hair.

He looked down, clearing his throat, and looked back to her. “Is there something you need?” He asked, shifting his weight. They stared at one another for a beat.

“I, uh…I wondered if I could speak with you.” Saliah stammered.

Cullen motioned for her to follow him. Saliah removed her cloak and began to put it on an empty armor stand by the entrance. “May I put this here?” She asked nervously as she pointed to it.

“Please do.” Cullen replied, smiling and motioning in response. Saliah quickly put her cloak down and turned to follow him.

Cullen’s tent was small, but very neat and tidy. It was simply furnished, with a large maple writing desk that was covered in organized piles of paper and files. Next to it, there was a tall bookshelf that was filled with a collection of more papers, along with baubles and bottles whose purpose Saliah couldn’t discern. In the corner a brazier burned brightly, keeping the tent both warm and well lit. Next to the entrance, there was another armor stand that held the familiar armor and red cloak that Saliah knew, and a small wardrobe.  Finally there was a simple cot, neatly made, sitting across from his desk.

“How can I help you?” Cullen asked as he sat behind his desk. He leaned over it and folded his hands.

“Well, I…have this bottle of Fereldan Rye. Flissa, over at the tavern, said that it’s your favorite. I thought I would bring it in hopes that you would share a few rounds with me.” Saliah replied awkwardly. She mentally kicked herself suddenly, “and I just realized that I brought no glasses.” She looked at him. _This is just great—_ she thought.

Cullen chuckled. “My lady, that’s quite alright. I keep a bottle here, so there’s no need to have brought—”

“Oh, I see.” Saliah said, looking down to her feet. _I should go—_ she thought to herself. “I’ll just…go, then.”

“What? No, I—” Cullen dropped his head over the desk and shook it, realizing his implication. He looked up as he sighed. “Thank you, Saliah. That is very kind of you.” He smiled. “Please, have a seat.” He looked around, rubbing the back of his neck as he realized that there was nowhere for her to sit. He stood and went to the bookshelf. “I’ll get a few glasses.”

Saliah stifled a giggle then, realizing that Cullen had no idea how to entertain guests. She moved in to the tent, putting the bottle on his desk and sitting on the cot across from it. She found herself sitting bolt upright with her hands folded in her lap, as though she were at court. He came back and put two glasses on the desk, then went and moved his chair around so it was next to the cot. Saliah gathered her hair over her shoulder and fidgeted with it as he poured two drinks and sat down.

“Now,” Cullen asked, handing her a glass, “what did you want to discuss?”

Saliah sat, looking down to her drink. She rolled the glass between her hands. “Cullen,” she began, “I owe you an explanation and an apology.” She looked up to meet his face.

“No, Saliah, I should apologize. I should have told you sooner.” Cullen responded in a quiet tone. Saliah realized how much she missed that gentle tone in his voice. His eyebrows were knitted together in concern. She wanted to smooth them and take that look of worry off his face.

“You already did, and I was awful about it.” Saliah retorted gently. She looked back down to her drink. “Where to begin?” She whispered down into her drink, as if asking it.

She sat there silently for a while, staring at the brown liquor in her glass, while she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she looked to see Cullen leaning against the desk, with his head propped up on his arm and his leg loosely crossed over the other, looking at her intently. There was no formality to him, now; a fact that she was happy to see. She smiled and looked back down to her drink.

“My brother was my everything.” She began finally as she sat up and looked at the room. “Ed was the calm to my storm, the reason to my chaos. He was my other half. When we were little, we were utterly inseparable. It was a source of pride for my mother and father.”

“I can imagine,” Cullen smiled as he took a swig. “Siblings who don’t fight are a rarity.”

Saliah half laughed and nodded her head. “That’s right, you have several.” Cullen nodded, smiling as he took another swig.

“Our gifts began to manifest when he was 13 and I was 10.” Saliah continued, scooting herself fully onto his cot and sat cross-legged, tucking her ankles under her. She hunched over herself, rolling her glass between her hands. “His was… it was so beautiful, his magic. He had this trick,” Saliah smiled as she made the hand gesture she remembered “where he would sweep his hand over a plant and make it more lush and alive than you could ever imagine.” 

“I remember,” Cullen said, smiling wistfully. “He and I would walk through the gardens of the Circle regularly. He would often work his magic on the hedges.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Saliah replied, suddenly delighted to hear details of her brother she never had. She smiled at Cullen and then looked back down to her drink. She finished it, and Cullen quickly offered to fill it again. She gratefully received it.

“A friend of my mother’s, whose brother was inconveniently the Knight-Commander at Ostwick Circle, saw my brother work his magic and reported him. When the Templars came for him, we were preparing to leave for the tribe.” Saliah’s tone hardened as the memory of it came into her mind. She stopped to heel herself and took a drink from her glass. “I fought tooth and nail to keep them from him.” Saliah said, not looking at anything in particular.

“You…you fought fully trained Templars, at 10 years old?” Cullen asked with a smirk on his face. He was quite amused at the notion, knowing how ferocious she was now.

Saliah cocked her head and nodded, looking at him, “it took three of them to pull me out of the doorway to my brother’s room. And I took chunks of it with me.” She laughed quietly remembering, “I may have also broken the Knight-Commander’s nose in the process.” She finished with a sly smile on her face, indicating that there was no “may have” to it.

Cullen broke into open laughter at the comment. It occurred to Saliah that she had never heard him laugh so hard. His face wrinkled in the most delightful fashion. His laugh was warm and genuine, like the rest of him. He put his glass on the desk and held his sides, laughing with his whole body. “You—broke—” he gasped, laughing harder, sinking into his chair. 

Saliah started to laugh as well, realizing how ridiculous the thought of a child doing what she did was. The pair laughed for a long time, not being able to really stop. Cullen stopped to take a drink from his glass. He hesitated for a moment and looked at Saliah and chuckled again, taking a drink.

Saliah sighed deeply, collecting herself. “When they took him, it destroyed me. We promised to write each other everyday, twice a day when possible. That same night, my mother left with me for the tribe, for fear that the Order would come back for me. They believed my strength was magical.”

Cullen’s face became somber as she continued with her story.

“We kept our promise to one another and wrote everyday.” Saliah remembered the letters and remembered how she would tear into each new one, hungry for news on her brother. “And, about 6 months into his stay at Kinloch, he began to write about his new friend, The Templar.” She looked at Cullen for a long beat.

“He wrote about me?” Cullen asked as he took another swig.

“All the time.” Saliah replied, remembering how much Ed wrote about his friend. “For the next two and a half years, I heard about you at least twice a week. I know all the stories.” Saliah smiled. “He would tell me of your conversations together, how idealistic you were. He really believed that the two of you could change things at the Circle.” Saliah looked down to her glass. “It got to a point where I envied you, Cullen. Well, not _you—_ but this Templar person.”

“Why?” Cullen asked, cocking his eyebrow incredulously. “You didn’t know me.”

Saliah adjusted herself, trying to find the words. “Because,” she started after a beat, “here you were, a warrior like me. You were strangely bound to magic, like I was. But, the difference was that you had him with you, Cullen.” Saliah felt a lump in her throat rising. “And for me, my brother had been reduced to so many lines of ink on parchment.”

An awkward silence ensued after Saliah’s admission. They both drank their servings and poured new ones. Saliah sighed and looked beyond Cullen, to the back of the tent. “When the letters stopped, I knew something had happened.” She pushed the memory of the panic at his silence down. “The Order didn’t tell us anything, other than that he died in an altercation at the Circle. After awhile, I had convinced myself that you had killed him.” She finished hollowly, ashamed at her own admission. “That’s the first apology I owe you, Cullen. I know that now.”

Cullen looked at her in silence. His face was inscrutable.

Saliah blew the air out of her lungs and looked at him. “I am so sorry for my actions, Cullen. I…Maker, I am so very sorry.” She felt the lump rising again. “I shouldn’t have said those awful things to you. There’s no excuse for me.” Against her own will, tears started welling up and spilling onto her cheeks. “I don’t want you to die for me, or for anyone for that matter.” She continued, wiping her eyes.

“Saliah,” Cullen said gently, quickly moving to sit next to her. She scooted over to make room for him. He sat at the edge of his cot and put his hand on her knee. Saliah’s heart began beating furiously at the contact with him. “Thank you. I appreciate it. But, look, I hold some blame in this as well.” He smiled.

“No, you don’t.” Saliah insisted. “I can only imagine what you went through after Ed died. I can’t blame you for not wanting to relive it.” She sniffed and looked at him. “I, just, I—” she didn’t know where she was going with her thought. “In the future, when I found you, I let you die. Not intentionally, but—”

“You saw me in that future?” Cullen asked, surprised.

Saliah nodded. She hadn’t meant to tell him, and chided herself for blurting it out.

“What happened to me?” Cullen asked, genuinely curious.

“Do you really want to know?” Saliah replied.

“Well, if Varric gets a detailed report, I think it’s only fair.” Cullen replied with a gentle smile. He squeezed her knee reassuringly. “It’s alright, you can tell me.” Saliah noticed that his cheeks were very flushed. _Probably the liquor—_ she thought.

“We found you in the same room as Leliana. You were emaciated, shackled, and had shards of red Lyrium protruding form you.” Saliah rushed out her reply, wanting to get through the retelling quickly. “You…you looked ghastly. I held you—” she quickly looked away, blushing furiously. _Great idea, tell the man you’re in love with that you kissed his dead body—_ she thought to herself, realizing that it was the first time she admitted how deeply she felt. The realization only made her turn a deeper shade of scarlet. “I held you, and you…” she took a deep breath “you died, in my arms. I imagine from the wounds you sustained from the Venatori putting the Lyrium in you.”

“They put…they inserted those shards into me?” Cullen asked, horrified. Saliah was strangely relieved that he chose to focus on that part.

“mm-hmm.” Saliah nodded her head as she took a swig.

“Why?”

“Because, they wanted to see what it would do to one who had stopped taking it altogether.” Saliah repeated what Leliana had said. Saliah looked to him for his response. She was surprised that he looked relieved.

“Ah." Cullen said, sitting back. "So, you know about that.” He straightened his back and poured himself another drink.

“Yes, Leliana and Cassandra told me after you died. Don’t be too upset with them; they don’t know that they did. Really, only Dorian and I know what happened to you. I didn’t think you wanted people to know about…well, that you stopped taking Lyrium.”

“I’m not upset at all, to be honest. I’m glad that you know.” Cullen looked back to her and smiled. He adjusted himself closer to her. “I think we’ve established that secrets don’t work well between us.” He chuckled quietly as his amber eyes deepened their gaze.

Saliah could feel him near her as she looked back. It both excited and comforted her all at once. She wanted nothing more than to fall into his chest and have him wrap his arms around her. She didn’t even need him to kiss her, or take her just then; she just wanted to be wrapped up in him. Her stomach was flip-flopping in anticipation.

Instead, she looked at her glass. “You’re taking the news of your passing awfully well, Commander.” Saliah joked as she took a swig.

“I suppose it’s because I know that it won’t come to pass. We won’t let it happen.” Cullen replied in a determined tone as he sat back a bit. Saliah instantly regretted breaking the moment.

 _Or perhaps there was no moment to begin with_ —she thought to herself.

“You’re right, it won’t.” Saliah looked at him for a long beat. “I swear to you, Cullen. I will never let any of that come to pass. Even if it means laying down my own life.” His eyes widened at her comment. “I won’t let that Elder One have his way.” Her voice was hard and determined, while her face was soft.

“I don’t really know where you and I go from here.” She admitted, changing the subject. “But, I hope that we can go back to the place where we were, about five minutes before I so summarily put my foot in my mouth.” She looked at him, readying herself to the potential that he may reject any further friendship with her. “I know it may not be possible, and I understand if you, well, don’t want to.”

“I seem to remember telling you that I wanted to put this behind us, Saliah.” Cullen replied in a mildly annoyed tone, with a crooked smile that wrinkled his scar.

“Yes, I suppose you did, didn’t you?” Saliah replied, looking at the scar on his lip.

Cullen leaned down and grabbed the bottle and topped off their drinks. He held his up as if to make a toast. Not knowing what to expect, Saliah raised hers as well.

“To five minutes before.” He looked at her with a grin.

“Really?” Saliah breathed, grinning back.

He nodded and clinked his glass to hers. They both took a sip, and then sat together in silence. Saliah was so relieved that, before she knew what she was doing, she leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. She felt him tense up, then relax and wrap his arm around her, and pulled her closer into his side. He put his face on the top of her head and took a deep breath. She took a deep breath in response, breathing in his scent and closing her eyes. She was relived that she had not damaged them irrevocably.

The two sat together this way for long time, neither knowing what to do next. The silence, save for the crackling of the fire, was blissful. There was no awkwardness or tension. For a moment, Saliah completely forgot their stations within their reality. They were just together, close friends who had made amends. Saliah shifted herself slightly, wrapping her arm around his waist and taking another deep breath. She heard a quiet rumble from his chest, just under his heartbeat.

“I think I’ve taken up enough of your time, Cullen. I should go.” Saliah said quietly after a long pause. She knew that she should get going before this went anywhere else. _Maker, I want to,_ she admitted silently. But, she knew that it could get complicated, especially with so much going on with the mages and the Breach.

“If you must. Although, I…well, alright.” Cullen replied quietly, relaxing his grip on her. Saliah pulled back and looked up at him. He had a looked of acceptance and regret painted across his face. She smiled and looked down, regretfully unlatching herself from him.

“Thank you for coming by.” He said awkwardly as they both stood.

“No, thank you Cullen, for being gracious in the face of my assholery.” Saliah replied, flashing a smile as she walked to the armor stand and donned her cloak. “Your hospitality has been most welcomed.”

Cullen chuckled, “yes, well, next time we’ll see about more chairs.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Or, not.” Saliah cocked her eyebrow in response and grinned impishly. He gave her a smoldering look, his hand still on the back of his neck. She could see him looking at her, all of her. She felt herself blush again. _You are something_ —she thought, her heart beating wildly. She slowly let the breath she was holding out, forcing her self to step towards the door. She looked back at him for a beat. “Good night, Cullen.”

“Good night.” He waived simply as she stepped out.

Saliah stepped out into the snowy night and looked up at the cloud deck. She smiled, letting the cold little flakes fall on her face. “I think that is the most self control I have ever exerted.” She said quietly to the sky, giggling girlishly. That last smoldering look Cullen gave her played in Saliah’s mind repeatedly, causing a warmth to stir deep within her belly. _If only there weren’t that blasted hole in the sky,_ she thought, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the Breach in the distance.

“Well, I think that went swimmingly, don’t you?” A musical voice said from the other side of the tent.

“You really know how to apologize to a guy, Beautiful. I might need to save some of this for one of my books.” Varric said, as he and Dorian walked out from the shadows.

“You heard all of that?!?” Saliah asked, her eyes wide in shock. “What blighted business did you have, snooping on me like that!” she whispered harshly.

“Well, given how the two of you are famous for tearing into one another, we thought we should monitor the situation.” Dorian said, obviously lying. Both of them were clearly very pleased with themselves.

Just as Saliah was getting ready to reprimand them, she heard a loud commotion from the camps. They ran closer to it to get a better look. There was a sudden burst of movement and a large crowd was gathering.

“Varric, get the Commander.” Saliah’s core snapped to attention. She saw the Bull walk up quickly from his tent, his battleaxe in hand. “Bull, Dorian- let’s see what this is.” The trio jogged towards the commotion, picking up Cassandra on the way.

As they approached, Saliah saw a group of Mages and Templars on either side of a large campfire, shouting and hollering at one another. In the middle were First Enchanter Fiona, Solas, and Vivienne trying to calm things down, unsuccessfully.

“Bull, give me your axe. I don’t have my maul on me.” Saliah said, holding out her hand. The Bull handed it to her without question as they kept running. Once they came closer to the fire, Saliah stopped and lobbed the massive axe into the air. It swung, end-over-end, and landed with a loud crash into the fire. The axe’s blade cut into a piece of thick firewood. The action caused the flames to rise and sparks to fly into the air, startling and silencing the gathered crowd at once.

“ _AND JUST WHAT IN THE GOOD FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!_ ” Saliah roared, quickly following the axe, her group running up with her. She looked at the Templars and the Mages with anger in her eyes. “You! Explain yourself this instant!” She shouted, pointing at a former Templar officer with whom she met earlier that afternoon.

“My lady Herald, the mages are the cause of the Divine’s death! You cannot have them—”

“You’re not in any position to command the Herald to do anything, Adryn.” Cullen shouted as he ran up with Varric.

“Indeed.” Saliah agreed, her eyes flashing at the Templar. She stepped towards him menacingly. “But, do enlighten me what I cannot do, Ser.”

“My Lady Herald,” Adryn stammered, “the mages, they—“

“We’ve done nothing! It is your kind who let her parish!” An older mage spoke up as he stepped in. “We are not your prisoners any longer! My lady, you cannot trust them to—”

“ _Alright, that’s enough_!” Saliah cut him off as she waved her arms out to her sides sharply, her voice intense with anger. “I did not bring you here to reignite your war with the Order.” She shouted, facing the crowd of mages. “You are no longer Mages of the Circle! You are no longer apostates!” She turned and stalked to the group of warriors, “And you! You are no longer members of the Templar Order!” She stepped back, standing in front of Cullen and her group. The crowd was silent, looking at her. “You are now all members of this man’s army!” She said, pointing back to Cullen. “He is your Commander and your leader, not the Chantry!” She called out. “You, and indeed all of us,” she motioned to herself and her companions, “serve at the pleasure of this Inquisition.”

The crowd remained silent as Saliah walked to the fire and pulled out Bull’s axe. The shaft of it was very warm. “Anyone who has a problem with that can come and see about it with me.” She growled loudly, holding the axe in front of her in an offensive position. She looked around, seeing the men and women shift uncomfortably and sheepishly.

“You! Who do you serve?” Saliah shouted suddenly, walking up to a young mage. He looked at her, startled at being called out.

“I-I serve the Inquisition.” He stammered in the face of her anger.

“Good!” Saliah smiled, her temper cooling down. She turned back to Adryn. “And you, Ser, who do you serve?” She asked in a hard tone, walking up to the man.

“I serve Commander Cullen and this Inquisition, My lady Herald.” Aderyn said loudly, pounding his fist against his chest in salute. Saliah saw that he was trying to be sincere.

“Excellent response, Ser. You’re a quick study.” Saliah replied. She patted him hard on the shoulder. She repeated her question to several more people on each side, all giving her the answer she sought.

Satisfied that she had made her point, Saliah turned and walked back to her companions. As she did, she saw Cullen holding back a smile as he looked at her. She walked up and stood next to him.

“Commander, I have a recommendation.” Saliah said loudly, her tone respecting his position.

“Do share it, Herald.” Cullen replied in an equally official tone.

“I believe it’s time that the leadership of both sides saw the Breach up close, so that they better understand what we’re up against.” Saliah saw most of the faces in the crowd change to apprehension and fear. Hundreds of eyes all looked to the hole in the sky at once.

“I agree, my lady Herald. Fiona, bring your closest advisors. Captains, with me! We leave for the Breach in five minutes!” Cullen commanded out to the crowd.

 

An hour later, Cullen watched as Saliah led a group of about 40 people to through the final path to the pit. He knew that Saliah had not been back there since her first attempt to close the Breach. She walked with Dorian, Solas, and Vivienne at her side; discussing the ritual they had developed to close it. As he watched her, his mind wandered to their reconciliation earlier that evening. He smiled quietly at the memory of her curled up against his side. The sensation of the comfortable silence, the smell of her hair, the feeling of the two of them together, all of the moments swirled like the snowfall around the group, making his stomach flutter and flip. He was glad that they were able to move past Edwin’s death, and only had minor regret that he didn’t gather up the courage to kiss her. He knew the implications of them coming together were too heavy, given their current tasks. He wondered if she felt the same, or was their closeness that night simply her seeking comfort in general. He hoped it was not the latter. Her flirt about the lack of more chairs for next time made his heart pound in his chest.

The juxtaposition of those quiet moments against her recent crowd control amused him to no end. _She is something_ , he thought to himself, remembering how fierce she looked as she pulled the axe from the fire. In less than 20 minutes, she had managed to begin to unify two factions who had been warring with one another for the better part of a year. Her ability to unify the troops was admirable; he considered how far she had come from the first time they met, on this path. He admitted that he could never have imagined how well she turned out, or how completely he had come to care for her.

He considered what she had told him of the dark future, where he died. While not at all the way he envisioned telling her, he was relieved that she knew about his Lyrium withdrawal. He knew he would have to explain the details of his decision, and would likely field questions about his health. _But the hard part is done,_ he reminded himself. That she took it all in stride only encouraged his heart to swell and beat faster.

“Commander,” Cassandra said approached, breaking his train of thought. “We are nearly there.”

“The last time we were here, it was under very different circumstances.” Cullen mused to himself aloud.

“Yes, before we were on the defensive.” Cassandra replied. She looked at Saliah, “and she was not what she is now.”

“Indeed.” Cullen replied, suppressing a smile.

Cassandra caught it, and smiled. “I am glad that you reconciled with each other.”

Cullen sighed sharply. “I see it’s already public knowledge.”

“Yes, it is.” Cassandra replied frankly. She looked at him again, “we are all very glad for it.” She patted him on the back.

They watched as Saliah and the mages reach the crest of the temple’s ruins. She turned, looking for something. Seeing both of them she smiled and motioned for them to join her.

Reaching the precipice, Cullen stood next to Saliah and took in the wreckage. He was quite sure that he was never going to get used to seeing the temple in this state. He quietly chanted a few lines from the Chant of Benedictions reflexively. “Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.” He said under his breath.

“Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.” Saliah replied quietly. He looked at her, surprised.

“What?” She returned the look, and smiled. “I may be a child of the Maker’s Wyld, but my parents are devout Andrasteans. My mother converted when they married. I know most of the chant, actually.” She looked back to the pit. “And this is about all of us living, in the end.” She said quietly, mostly to herself. Cullen said nothing in reply, remembering her promise to lay down her life if needed be. He hoped that it never came to that place. He realized that he couldn’t stand the thought of loosing her.

Saliah led the troop of people down into the pit, carefully and nimbly working her way through the ruins and the rubble, taking advantage of the Breach's green light to lead the way. Dorian, Solas, and Vivienne followed her down, with Solas telling the mages and the Templars to hold back to one of the higher levels of the strange amphitheatre that the ruins created. Cullen, and the rest of Saliah’s other companions followed her into the pit itself.

As the three mages called out to the gathered leadership, describing the details of the ritual that would transpire, Cullen made his way over to Saliah. She looked around the pit with a distracted look on her face.

“Are you alright?” Cullen asked, looking down to her hand as he approached.

“I’m fine. It’s just… the last time I was here, it wasn’t this quiet.” Saliah replied, watching him look at her hand. “My hand doesn’t hurt at all, Cullen. I promise.” She said gently. Cullen looked at her to make sure she wasn’t being stoic. He was satisfied to see that she was telling the truth.

“It’s weird, that’s for damn sure.” Varric chimed in. “The last time we were all here, this was total chaos. It’s eerie to see it so quiet.”

Cassandra nodded in silent agreement.

Cullen watched the three of them survey the area, remembering that it was the three of them and Solas who had been in this together, from the beginning. He saw Saliah step aside a bit and look up. As others saw her do it, they copied her. Cullen looked up last, and saw what caught her attention.

The Breach swirled above them, its green, gaseous tendrils moving lazily and independently of the weather pattern. While it radiated light, there was no warmth from it. It simply existed there, utterly apathetic and unaware of the chaos that had been caused in its wake. Strangely, there was no snowfall here, Cullen realized. The last vestiges of Lyrium in his body hummed as he felt the enormous amount of magic radiating from it.

Cullen walked up behind Saliah, not taking his eyes off of the great hole. He stood close to her, his instincts ready to protect her if anything went awry. “How are you feeling?” He asked quietly, so only she could hear.

Saliah kept her eyes up, looking at the giant rift as she took a deep breath and let it out. “Ready,” she said simply as she shifted her weight and laced her branded fingers through his right hand. He held her hand and squeezed it as his heart beat faster, looking down to see the sensationless green light shine from their joined palms. She looked to him. Cullen met her eyes and saw a look of resolve in them that nearly made him uneasy.

She looked back up into the hole. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, lots happening. It was really, really hard for me not to have the reconciliation get rated R, at first. But, well, yeah-- they aren't there yet. Slow and steady wins the race, as the old adage goes :D
> 
> Haven next time, peeps?
> 
> ***The bookmarks and comments continue to surprise, delight, and inspire me. If you like what you're reading, lemme know! Thank you all for your continued <3\. Y'all are the bestest!!!***


	13. Everybody Wants to Rule the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn shame what happened to Haven.

Ana laughed as she and several other elven and human townsfolk danced and sang around one of the many campfires that sprung up in town. The night was loud and raucous from the celebration that began when her lady’s green light shot into the sky, obliterating the Breach that had taken residence there. Ana did not join in the festivities until she saw Lady Saliah, Commander Cullen, Lady Cassandra and the rest of the Company come towards Haven. She was elated to see Lady Saliah walking proudly and seemingly uninjured from the ritual.

Looking up to the sky, Ana whooped and cheered again at seeing the absence of the great green hole in the sky. In its stead was a swirl of clouds. The skyline was dark, finally lit only by the half moon overhead. She made her way around the ring of dancers, stopping to lick her hand after some of the mulled wine from her glass spilled out. Eyeing the stairs that led to the central square, Ana saw her lady watching the fun, alone, from one of the retaining walls near the top.

She was a proud sight to behold: strong, vigilant, and still in her armor with her maul in its brace—her white hair down and shining in the dancing lights. Saliah amazed Ana, as she always did. Her lady wore a face of relief mixed with happiness as she laughed with the people in their celebration. Ana swelled with pride and caught her lady’s gaze as she silently offered her a toast from afar. Her lady held up her tankard in response, bowing her head. They drank, and then her lady playfully motioned for her to go away, mouthing the words ‘shoo’ and ‘have fun’ as she did it. Ana turned and grabbed the hand of the town merchant, joining him in a dance.

 

Saliah was positively _buzzing_. She could still feel the strength of the energy that poured through her from the ritual that closed the Breach. But, more than that, Saliah was feeding off the total happiness and deliverance the people of Haven exhibited at their victory. She knew it had been a very long time since this village had been so exuberant over anything. _They deserve it; these people have been at the front of it this whole time—_ she thought to herself. She smiled for a moment on the notion that, at least for now, the Inquisition had thwarted the so-called Elder One’s plan. The combination of it all made Saliah’s heart feel as though it might burst from joy. She laughed, watching the antics of the townsfolk and of the Inquisition’s forces as they danced, ate, drank, and carried on.

Surveying the crowd, Saliah spied a male Templar kissing a female mage, in drunken fervor, just beyond the light of one of the bonfires. Saliah smiled quietly as their lips locked and their hands explored one another in the leaping shadows. She was happy that they wouldn’t have to hide their attraction for one another, here. She prayed that it was a sign that she could work to find a peaceful way forward for everyone. She shifted her weight and drank deeply from her tankard as she moved her gaze away from the couple, silently offering them good wishes in their night.

“Well, you don’t see that everyday.” Dorian said as he walked up next to her, motioning to the newly minted lovers.

“I hope to see more of it by the night’s end.” Saliah winked to her friend, turning her head back to the crowd.

“I agree! Nothing better to mark a celebration than some carnal fun.” Dorian grinned. “Why aren’t you down there with the townsfolk, my dear? This is your doing, after all.”

Saliah shrugged and took a sip of beer. “I wanted to let them have their fun without inhibition. People get proper and reverent around me. I would rather they revel in this, not revere me for making it happen.”

“You are both kind and wise, dear friend.” Dorian said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He offered his glass in a silent toast to her. She bumped her tankard against it, and they both drank. “How are you feeling? We pumped a considerable amount of energy through you.” Dorian broke his embrace, reaching down to her hand to inspect the mark. It shined and seemed more active than normal. He looked up to her, his face showing concern.

“Fine—great, actually!” Saliah said brightly. “I feel more well-rested than I have in a long time.”

“Hmm, I imagine that was the healing magic.” Dorian replied, quickly inspecting her. He continued, “we instructed the strongest healers to push healing magic through you, as the others pushed pure energy through you. A failsafe to make sure we didn’t damage you, despite your unusual affinity with the mark.” He finished, referencing hers and Solas’ recent confession to him, about why the mark didn’t affect her poorly.

Saliah nodded her head approvingly, allowing Dorian to inspect her. “Smart—that was very smart. Thank you for thinking of it.”

“You can thank Vivenne for that bit, honestly.” Dorian said with a small smile as completed his inspection, knowing how little Saliah liked the woman.

“Well, I shall have to then, won’t I? I suppose she’s not entirely terrible.” Saliah snickered and took the final swig of her beer.

As she finished her drink, she saw Cullen walking up the stairs to them. She smiled and raised her tankard to him. He waved and laughed in reply, trotting up the steps.

“My lady, good evening!” Cullen said cheerfully, stopping his ascent a few steps below her.

Saliah nodded her head and smiled. “Good evening, Commander!”

“I’ve come to check to see how you are faring after the ritual.” He replied, his face showing a hint of concern.

“I was just telling Dorian,” Saliah motioned to the mage, “that I am feeling quite well!” She looked at Cullen, thinking of the two lovers she had just seen.

Cullen and Saliah had been nearly inseparable since their reconciliation. Neither of them had made any further advancement on each other, though. They had been too busy in preparation for the ritual and assault on the Breach. But, they had been working, side-by-side since, stealing glances and smiles from one another whenever possible.

Saliah resolved that, later that night, she would make it clear to him that she wanted him and cared for him. She would invite him to her cabin for a private drink. _Maker knows we won’t fit on that cot of his!_ —She thought, her desire for him making her heart pound. Her budding plan made her smile and blush as she took Cullen in. He smiled in return, taking another step closer to her.

“What about you?” Dorian asked Cullen, getting his attention. Saliah wasn’t sure she liked the tone in Dorian’s voice. It was a little too playful, and she knew how shy Cullen could be in the face of their mutual attraction. “I feared that you were going break people in half if they didn’t let you through to our fair Herald fast enough! You are something to watch when you get like that.” Dorian cocked his eyebrow and grinned.

“Oh, stop, you pest.” Saliah said, playfully swatting him on the shoulder. Turning to Cullen, she gave a fake exasperated face “Don’t pay him any mind, Cullen.” She stifled a giggle as he stammered nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why aren’t you with your men and women? They are having such a grand time, I’m sure they would love to share a drink with their Commander.” Saliah said, quickly changing the subject.

“I simply came out to make sure you’re alright before I went back to work.” Cullen replied, clearly grateful that she had changed the subject.

“I’m _fine,_ I promise you.” Saliah said reassuringly. “Now, go! No more work tonight; share this moment with your troops. This is as much a victory for you as it is for them, Cullen.” She looked down to him as she pinned her hair back behind her ears.

“Alright, then,” Cullen said, nodding his head in agreement, “I think I will go and share a drink with them.” He looked over his shoulder and laughed at Adan, the town alchemist, dancing with three buxom women. He turned back and looked up to Saliah. “Will I see you later?” He asked, his tone and eyes optimistic.

“I hope so.” Saliah replied with a sly smile. Cullen caught her look and cleared his throat, smiling back. He gave her a long glance and turned, making his way back down to the crowds.

Saliah and Dorian were silent as they admired Cullen in his departure. Saliah tilted her head unconsciously, taking pleasure in the sway of his gate. She heard Dorian heave a musical sigh as he watched the gorgeous man walk away. Saliah snorted and laughed at Dorian’s reaction.

“If I catch you snooping on me again tonight, I will thoroughly beat you.” Saliah warned good-naturedly, smiling at the memory of Dorian and Varric eavesdropping on her, five nights before.

Dorian let out a loud laugh as he shifted his weight. “I’m afraid I will be entirely too busy for that kind of mischief tonight, dear.” Saliah raised her eyebrows and looked at him in surprise. Dorian’s eyes looked over the crowd and settled on the Bull, who was sitting with the Chargers and some Templars. Following where he was looking, Saliah saw that the Bull was looking across the crowd and holding Dorian’s gaze.

“No kidding!” Saliah said with an amused grin spreading across her face as she looked between the two. “Well, enjoy _that_ ride, my friend.” She said, clapping Dorian on the shoulder.

“I shall.” Dorian said, smiling to her as he walked down the steps.

Saliah laughed as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief at the pairing. She looked down to her empty tankard, and decided to get another serving. Just as she was stepping down, she saw Cassandra approaching, out of the corner of her eye.

“Solas confirms the heavens are scarred, but calm.” Cassandra said as she approached, her bastard sword quietly clinking against her armor in rhythm with her step. She looked to the ruins in the distance. “The Breach is sealed.” Cassandra said, her voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

“Delightful to see, isn’t it?” Saliah said quietly.

“There are still lingering rifts, and many questions remain—but this was a victory.” Cassandra said, turning and looking at Saliah. “Word of your heroism has spread. Congratulations, my friend.” Cassandra smiled.

“Oh, Cassandra, this is a victory for all of us.” Saliah said, looking back to the crowd of celebrating people. “You know that as well as I do.”

“You’re right. This was a victory of alliance.” Cassandra said, following her glance. “One of few in recent memory.”

“I’m just glad I could help, honestly.” Saliah replied, absently rattling her empty tankard.

“With the Breach closed, that alliance will need new focus.” Cassandra said, looking to the crowd.

Saliah laughed at her friend’s ever-present drive. “Yes, well that’s for tomorrow. Tonight we—” The sound of alarm bells stopped Saliah’s thought.

All at once, the happy scene turned to one of disarray, as the alarm bells tolled. The crowd made sounds of fear and confusion. Cullen ran to Haven’s gate, stopping to look at Saliah and Cassandra.

“Enemy forces approaching! To arms!” He cried, turning to continue his run to the gate.

“What the…? We must get to the gates!” Cassandra said, pulling her sword and rushing down the stairs.

Saliah followed suit, pulling her maul as she descended the stairs. She saw Ana at the base, looking to her with eyes wide in fear.

“Ana,” Saliah called as she ran by. “Get the people to follow you to the Chantry!” She turned and ran backwards, “get yourself and them to safety!” Saliah turned and ran off.

“Yes, my lady!” Ana called back to her. She turned and began herding people to the stone building.

“I knew this was too easy.” Varric grumbled as he met up with Saliah in her run to the gates.

“Let’s get to the gates and see what’s going on.” Saliah said as her core hardened. She pulled her hair back as they approached, just behind Cassandra.

“Cullen?” Cassandra asked breathlessly as they approached.

Saliah saw that all of her companions, as well as most of the Inquisition’s officers’ corps had gathered around Cullen. The gates were closed and being barricaded as she approached.

“One watch guard reporting.” Cullen remarked. “It’s a massive force, the bulk over the mountain.”

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked as she ran up.

“None.” Cullen replied, looking at Saliah. Saliah could see that he was completely startled.

“None?!” Josephine replied incredulously. The advisors and Saliah all exchanged a look of confusion and disbelief.

Saliah quickly climbed the nearby watchtower ladder to get a better look. Hanging from the ladder, she could see that the valley approaching Haven was littered with torchlights. A huge, undulating mass made up of soldiers quickly made their approach. She knew they didn’t have much time.

“He’s right; it’s huge. Thousands strong.” Saliah said as she slid down. She ran up to them, looking around in mounting panic.

Just then, the gates heaved and a young boy’s voice cried out. “I can’t come in unless you open!”

Saliah ran to the gate at the sound of the young voice. “Open it!” She commanded to the two centuries. They looked to Cullen in unease. She looked to Cullen and cried “Cullen, there’s a boy out there!”

“Open the gates.” Cullen commanded as he pulled his sword. The two centuries pulled the lock and opened the heavy door.

Walking towards Saliah was a huge, thick man, wearing the same helm the Venatori wore in the future. He carried a battle-axe that was bigger than the Iron Bull’s. Just as Saliah readied to attack him, a dagger poked through his throat and cut down into his abdomen, killing him as blood spurted out from his jugular.

As the Venatori fighter fell, Saliah saw a young man stand behind the body, stowing his assassin’s dagger in its sheath. He was very slight of frame and had a pale, gaunt face. His hair was a light blond and he had light, watery eyes. He wore rogue’s armor that had clearly been cobbled together, and a hat with the most ridiculously large brim that Saliah had ever seen. Despite his look, Saliah knew a rogue that can take down a fighter of that size shouldn’t be trifled with.

“I’m Cole.” He said as he stepped over the body and hurried to Saliah and Cullen, who both came running out to meet him. “I came to warn you. To help.” He looked at the two of them as Saliah and Cullen surveyed the horizon.

Cole looked over his shoulder and back to Saliah. “People are coming to hurt you.” He said in a rushed tone. “You probably already know.”

“What is this?” Saliah asked, looking at him. “What is going on?”

“The Templars come to kill you.” Cole said gravely, the brim of his hat hiding his face.

“Templars?!” Cullen said, approaching the boy. Cole reflexively stepped back and readied his daggers. Cullen held the tip of his sword down, showing he meant no harm. “Is this the Order’s response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?” He looked to Saliah, his face a mix of surprise and shame.

“The Red Templars—” Cole began, looking at Cullen.

“Red Templars! Maker, have they all turned?” Saliah asked the boy, her voice shrill in surprise.

Cole nodded. “They went to the Elder One. You know him? Because he knows you, Herald. You took his mages.” He looked between them, and then looked at nothing. It seemed as though something silently spoke to him. Suddenly, and wordlessly, he turned around and pointed up to a cliff on the furthest side of the lake. “There.” He said.

Saliah’s eyes followed his gesture. Walking up to the top of the cliff was a man, clad in red, glowing armor. He carried a large and strange looking sword. Behind him, a huge creature stood. She couldn’t make out either of their features well, but she knew that the creature easily stood nine feet tall. It looked like a walking skeleton in how thin it was, with a strange and inhuman outline to its head. The creature walked to the precipice and seemed to focus on Saliah. Inexplicably, she could feel its gaze on her. Her branded hand twitched and hissed. The monster stood very still as the first wave of soldiers broke over the horizon. The clink and crunch of their march echoed in the valley.

“I know that man…” Cullen said in disbelief. “But this Elder One…”

“So the monster is the Elder One, not the man?” Saliah asked, looking back to Cullen. He only looked to her and slowly nodded.

“He’s very angry that you took his mages.” Cole said ominously.

“He’ll just have to deal with the disappointment.” Saliah growled. She saw the forces approaching quickly. “Cullen, give me a plan, anything.” She said urgently, not looking back.

“Haven is no fortress, Saliah. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.” The Commander responded. He turned back to the platoon at the gate and Saliah’s companions. “Platoon! You will follow the Herald and her companions!” He called to them as they ran forth. He looked to Saliah. “Get out to the trebuchets and hit that force. Use everything you can!”

“Yes, Ser.” Saliah replied flatly as she looked to him, her inner storm taking control. She turned to her assembled group. “Let’s go raise some hell, people!” She called out, turning to leave. “You’re with me, Cole.” She said, looking to the boy. She didn’t trust to leave him out of her sight. The boy nodded and fell in with the rest of the group, behind Varric.

As they prepared to leave, Saliah heard Cullen identify the man as Samson. He called out commands to the gathered forces. He warned them that Samson was not going to stop until they were done.

“Inquisition! With the Herald!” She heard him cry, “For your lives! FOR ALL OF US!”

 

“So, celebratory drinks are clearly on hold, then.” The Bull said as they ran to the trebuchets.

“Evidently.” Saliah replied dryly.

As they approached the trebuchets, Saliah saw the first wave of Templars marched on them in a regimented formation. As they neared her Company, they broke formation and began running. She could hear them shout and scream their battle cry.

“Platoon! Man and arm the trebuchets! We will cover you! Fire at will!” Saliah shouted as she ran forth.

“Yes, my lady!” She heard someone acknowledge her command.

Saliah and her party closed ground on the Templars quickly. All at once, the two groups crashed into one another. Saliah zeroed in on her first foe: a hulking Templar with pieces of Red Lyrium protruding from its armor. Its helm barely covered its mutilated face. The sight of it reminded her of what the Venatori did to Cullen, and it fueled her rage completely. She bellowed as she jumped and swung her maul over her head. She came down, the maul leading the way, its strike hitting the creature as she drove all of her weight and momentum down onto and snapping off its crystalline arm. She landed and whirled, spinning the hammer with her, and hit it again—this time snapping its torso from its waist. Shards of Red Lyrium exploded from its body, ricocheting off of her armor. She quickly turned to see two glowing human knights close in on her. She swung her maul over her head in a circular motion, smashing the one’s helm in completely and missing the other.

The Templar rushed her and shield-bashed her, throwing Saliah to the ground, knocking the wind from her lungs. She looked up, seeing his sword coming at her head. Rolling out of the way and jumping up in one motion, Saliah pivoted with a readied fist and punched the knight in the helm, sending him stumbling backward. Seizing the opportunity, Saliah ran to him and shoved the pointed pommel of her hammer through his exposed neck, and slammed him down, pinning the newly dead body to the ground. She pulled the pommel out as she ran to help Vivienne, who was fighting off two more of the crystal-clad hulks. Saliah snarled viciously as she swept their feet out from under them, leaving Vivienne the opportunity to freeze them solid and electrocute them with her magic.

The hum of battle was in full force. Saliah fought and killed a seemingly endless wave of Templars and Venatori. Minutes began to pile up with the bodies; fury and intent continuing to drive her every swing and strike. She could hear her companions fighting near her, but knew that they couldn’t keep up the pace for long. Just then, she heard the groan of the first trebuchet as it launched its ammunition into the valley. Cheers broke out as the hit connected and buried the right flank of the force under a mountain of stone and rubble.

“Reload!” She called to the first trebuchet. She turned to the group on the other device. “Ready that second trebuchet! Aim it at the mountain to cause an avalanche!” Saliah shouted to one of the lieutenants.

“My lady, it’s stuck!” The lieutenant called back.

“Maker’s Balls, of course it is.” Saliah snarled as she caught an attacking Venatori rogue trying to sneak attack her, and crushed its throat. She knew she would never stop delighting in killing the supremacists. “Varric! Cover me!” She called to the dwarf as she changed course to the machine.

“Got your back, Beautiful!” Varric replied as he shot through more foes with scattered bolts.

Saliah sprinted to the other device, sensing Blackwall and Solas behind her. As she readied for the onslaught of Venatori and Templars that came at her, she was stopped dead in her tracks by a huge, red claw that swept the ground. It surprised and tripped her, making her land on her face. She scrambled to roll over, quickly seeing that a ring of red crystals, jutting up from the ground, surrounded her. She looked up just in time to catch the falling red claw against the haft of her maul. Saliah struggled against the claw as its owner bared down on her. It was a huge monster, made entirely of Red Lyrium. There was no discernable face or eyes, just a moving mass. It forced its weight against Saliah’s strength. She could feel herself being pushed into the ground.

“ _You…will…not…have…ME!_ ” Saliah grunted through gritted teeth as she pushed up. The monster moaned and renewed its efforts. Saliah felt her grip begin to falter.

“SALIAH!” She heard Solas cry out. Then suddenly, the monster froze and turned to ice.

Saliah quickly dislodged her hammer from its claw and rolled out of the way of it, standing up in front of it. She could see that Solas’ ice spell was wearing off. Without hesitation for safety, Saliah roared and smacked at the monster in a criss-cross fashion with her weapon. The assault shattered the creature totally, as the ring of Lyrium around her fell.

Not taking heed to consider what had almost killed her, Saliah looked over just in time to see the second trebuchet un-jammed. The soldiers circled it around manually and aimed at the mountainside.

“FIRE!” Someone shouted.

She watched as the volley of ammunition flew out into the darkness. Seconds later, the side of the mountain exploded, triggering an enormous avalanche. Saliah grinned ruthlessly as she watched chaos race down the mountain and into the valley, burying the legion alive in rocks and snow.

Cheers broke out from the crowd at the immediate victory. Saliah approached the trebuchet, congratulating the soldiers for their work. Varric came up behind her, clapping her back. They smiled at one another and turned to take in the damage. Saliah’s smile fell as she saw a form quickly flying up from deeper within the valley.

“What is that?” She asked, calling Varric’s attention to it.

Before he could answer, a piercing roar cried out as the huge dragon released its breath weapon on the first trebuchet, destroying it completely. It circled back and used its breath weapon again, cutting a path through the avalanche.

“Shit, who ordered the end of the damned world!” Varric exclaimed, looking around in panic.

“GET BACK TO THE GATES! RETREAT!” Saliah shouted to the scattering Inquisition troops, not breaking sight with the dragon’s flight pattern.

Saliah and her Company raced back to Haven’s entrance, dodging the dragon’s repeated passes and attacks. She heard screams and cries from within the town as they approached the broken outer wall. The sounds shook her, as did the smells of the town burning.

“Herald!” The blacksmith cried as she passed his shop. He was struggling against the door to his burning workshop. “Help me with this door!”

Saliah ran over and smashed the door open. “Get in and get out, _NOW_!” Saliah shouted to him.

“Just getting the essentials.” He looked at her; his eyes reflected the panic she felt. “I won’t die for the forge.” He ran in, gathered a few things, and ran out. Blackwall grabbed one of his bags and helped him keep pace. As they ran the rest of the way to the entrance, Saliah saw that the dragon had leveled most of the Inquisition’s camp. She grimaced as the smell of burned flesh rose into her nostrils. She forced herself to stay focused and get to the gate.

“MOVE IT! MOVE IT! GET IN HERE NOW!” She found Cullen shouting to her Company and other stragglers, from Haven’s gate. She was as relieved to see him as she could muster. Her relief was subdued by the shock and anger she felt.

Saliah was the last to enter, ensuring that the rest of the people made it into the city as safely as possible. She and Cullen pulled the doors shut behind them. Saliah turned around, only to have her breath catch in her throat at the scene.

Haven was in shambles. Most of the town was on fire, and a haunting chorus of voices cried out from burning buildings. She looked to her leveled cabin and prayed that Ana was in the Chantry as she had instructed her.

“I need everyone to go back to the Chantry!” Cullen called out. “It’s the only building that might hold against that,” Cullen searched for the word, “ _beast._ ” The people quickly followed his command, rushing to the back of the town square.

Cullen looked to Saliah, her Companions, and the Chargers. He looked up as the dragon made another pass at the camps. He looked to Saliah again, his face torn between anger and fear. “At this point,” he said, throwing his hands against his sides “just make them work for it.”

Saliah nodded and looked to her troops. “Alright, people—listen up!” She began. “Bull, you take the Chargers and clear out that part of town.” She motioned down to the left, towards the central square. “Kill any and all enemies on sight, and get as many people out of the buildings as you can. Meet us at the Chantry.”

“Done.” The Bull growled. “CHARGERS! Let’s go!” He and his group made haste with their assignment.

“The rest of you, with me!” Saliah called out to her friends and companions. “Leave no enemy standing, and every townsperson alive!” She gave one last look to Cullen. “We will meet at the Chantry, Commander.”

 

Chancellor Rodrick called to them incoherently as they approached the Chantry’s open doors. Saliah, last to enter, helped the centuries close the doors, just as Cole caught the wounded Chantry cleric. Saliah saw that he had a bad wound to his abdomen.

“He tried to stop a Templar.” Cole said gently, but emotionlessly, as he led the man through the temple. “The blade went deep. He’s going to die.” Saliah’s face screwed up into a scowl at the boy’s distant tone.

“What a…charming boy.” Chancellor Rodrick said sarcastically. Cole and Saliah helped the wounded man to an armchair in the alcove. He cried out in pain as they sat him back.

The Chantry was in a tizzy of dense movement, between panicked civilians and soldiers. Saliah saw Ana assisting Mother Giselle and the other Chantry sisters with the wounded. She was relieved to see her alive.

“Saliah!” Cullen called as he made his way through the crowd to Saliah and her companions.

He ran up to the group. “Our position is not good.” He said quietly, looking around to see that no one heard him. “That damned dragon stole back any time you might have earned us. There have been no communications or demands from Samson. Only advance after advance.”

“Cullen, what’s the next plan?” Saliah asked, stepping closer to him. The two of them stared at each other for a beat. His lack of response told Saliah all she needed to know: this was it. Saliah swallowed hard and steeled her gaze. She was not going to accept defeat. Not now.

“I’ve seen an Archdemon.” Cole looked up at the two of them. “I was in the Fade, but it looked like that.”

Saliah was nauseated at the mention of the Archdemon.

“I don’t care what it looks like.” Cullen growled at Cole. “It’s cut a path for that fucking army. They’ll kill everyone in Haven.” As if to accentuate his point, the building shook as the dragon roared overhead. Haven’s inhabitants cowered and cried in fear.

“The elder one doesn’t care about the village.” Cole retorted petulantly as he looked overhead. “He only wants the Herald. He wants to kill you.” Cole looked at Saliah directly. She felt as though he were looking into her, not just at her. The sensation made her uneasy. “No one else matters, but he’ll crush them and kill them anyway.”

Cullen and the rest of her companions stared from Cole to Saliah.

“If you know why he wants me, Cole, just say it.” Saliah snapped impatiently. She knew the longer they talked, the less time they had to evacuate. _If I’m going to die, let’s just get on with it. —_ She thought.

“I don’t.” Cole replied. “He’s too loud. It hurts to hear him.” The boy dropped his head and shook it. “I don’t like him.” He said woefully.

“You don’t—”Cullen started, and then looked at the boy impatiently as he made an exasperated sound. “Saliah, there are no tactics to make this survivable.” He continued urgently, looking only at Saliah. “The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.”

“Are you nuts, Cullen?!” Varric asked, aghast.

“That’s not acceptable. I didn’t come to help, just so you could drop rocks on my head.” Dorian said with his voiced edged in anger. “For a Templar, you think like a blood mage!” The rest of her companions, save for Solas and Cassandra, all started shouting at Cullen in unison. The din of noise caused everyone in the temple to look at the group.

“That’s enough, all of you.” Saliah said quietly but forcefully, looking at all of them. “Cullen, we’re overrun.” She said simply to him. “To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven.”

“We’re dying,” Cullen said to all of them in an urgent and hushed tone. “But we can decide how.” He looked to Saliah, “many don’t get that choice.” Saliah searched his face for hope, for strength, for something that would ease the cold pit that had formed in her gut.

Saliah looked at him and looked to her group. The anger she felt mixed with grief and resolve. She looked to the room of village people. They depended on her for them to make it through this, alive. “I can’t accept that this is the only answer, Cullen.”

“There is a path, from just beyond the Chantry. To the valley behind Haven.” Chancellor Roderick said weakly, from his chair. The group stopped suddenly as he spoke. “You wouldn’t know it unless you’d made the summer pilgrimage, as I have.”

The cleric stood feebly, with Cole helping him up. He continued, “The people can escape. She must have shown me… Andraste must have shown me so I could…” his eyes met Saliah’s, “tell you.”

Saliah studied the man for a beat, considering the countless arguments and accusations she had endured from him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he collapsed back into the chair. She and Cole caught him and eased him back down, tenderly.

Saliah turned to Cullen as she stood, her eyes steady. “Will this work, Cullen? Can we get them out?”

He looked to the cleric for a beat. “Possibly,” he said to Saliah, “if he manages to show us the path.”

“Solas, heal him as much as you can. We’re going to need him.” Saliah said quietly over her shoulder. Solas came and inspected him, shaking his head.

“I can heal some of the damage, but he is gravely injured.”

“Just do what you can.” Saliah insisted. Solas looked back and started to heal him.

“Alright, then.” Saliah looked to Cullen. “You get them out, while I distract this Elder One.” Saliah said, crossing her arms and looking down to her feet. _They need to survive at all costs._ —She thought to herself.

“But what of your escape?” Cullen said to her. Saliah didn’t meet his gaze. She looked to the floor, not sure how to tell him that she may not make an escape. She finally looked to him, her eyes full of resolve. Cullen knew that look, remembering their moment at the pit.

He broke her gaze, and then marched down to a group of officers, roughly instructing them to assist the Chancellor through the Chantry. As they rushed to move Roderick, Cullen instructed another group of officers to head out and load the trebuchets. Saliah watched silently has he commanded his troops. The gathered crowd began heeding directions to follow the cleric through the Chantry’s back entrance.

Cullen strode quickly back to Saliah and her group. “Distract the Elder One long enough to allow us to get above the tree line. We will signal a flare when we’re clear.” For the first time since the attack, Cullen betrayed himself and looked at Saliah remorsefully. She looked back, thinking how far the night had strayed from her original plan.

“We have to move, now.” Cassandra spoke up as she made for the door.

“No, you’re not going.” Saliah said quietly, catching Cassandra’s arm. Cassandra looked down to Saliah’s hand and then up to meet her face.

“What do you mean, I’m not going?” Cassandra asked in a defiant tone, shaking free of Saliah’s grasp.

“I need you to go with Cullen and the rest of the advisors, Cassandra.” Saliah said, her temper rising in her voice. She didn’t have time to debate this with the Seeker.

“Saliah—” Cassandra began.

“Stop.” Saliah barked as held up her hand to silence Cassandra. “If I die, I die a martyr. My death only furthers this cause.” She looked to her friends, whose faces were all blanched at her statement. “If you die, any of you,” she looked at Cassandra, Cullen and the others, “then the Inquisition fails. And failure is not an option. You must survive this. My decision is not up for debate.”

Saliah turned to her companions before any of them could protest. “Bull, Varric, and Dorian: you will come with me and we will offer protection to the troops as they ready the machines. As soon as they are done, you get the hell out of there and follow the rest of the evacuation. I will face the Elder One alone. I will need the remaining members of my Company to do just as the Commander instructs. No questions asked.”

They all looked at her, their faces a collection of grief and compliance as they nodded. She smiled at all of them. “Mind you, I have no intention of dying tonight.” She chuckled ruefully.

The group dispersed quickly. None of her companions could make eye contact with her. Saliah knew the reality of this as well as they did: this was likely a suicide mission. As she turned to leave after gathering what healing potions she could find, she saw Cullen standing still amongst all the action in the room. He looked at her helplessly, his arms hanging limply at his sides. His eyebrows were knit together in a look of sadness that almost made her second-guess herself.

Without hesitation, or caring who saw, Saliah moved quickly across the room. She leapt for the last foot, wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and kissed him. She felt him wrap his arms around her waist and pull her in closer with such strength that she was sure he would bend their breastplates. She breathed him in, silently promising to commit his perfect scent of sandalwood and leather to memory. Her heart was pounding out of her chest as she felt his hand travel to the back of her head and hold onto her gathered hair, as he adjusted the angle of his lips to kiss her more deeply. The world stopped for a moment: there was no impending doom, no panicking people. It was just her, in the arms of this incredible man, who was lovingly and passionately kissing her. Saliah wished beyond all else that they could stay in this moment forever.

She pulled back, opening her eyes to meet his. “In case I didn’t get to, later.” She whispered in explanation, kissing him again quickly and tenderly. Cullen smiled quietly and looked at her, not saying anything. His cheeks were flushed and he was smiling, but there was a furrow on his brow that told Saliah that he was also sad and worried.  She unlaced her arms and went down to her feet. Her hands were flat against his breastplate as she stared at the hollow of his neck. She balled up one hand into a fist and knocked against his breastplate, looking up into his face. “Make sure I see that flare, Cullen.”

Cullen pulled her close again and put his forehead against hers. “If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance—” he looked up into her eyes intensely as his voice dropped to a low rumble, “make that thing hear you.”

Saliah broke the embrace first, stepping backwards from him. Cullen’s face was stoic. She twitched a small smile and quickly winked at him. “See you on the other side, Commander.” She turned and motioned to her trio. They ran out of the Chantry without another word.

 

Just as they finished aiming the trebuchet to the snow-capped mountain overlooking Haven, Saliah saw the Archdemon dragon approaching, screeching its arrival.

“Move! Get out of here!” She motioned to her people and ran. Just as they cleared from the trebuchet, the dragon released its breath weapon in a ball of fire. It landed, blowing Saliah up and back 10 feet. She landed with a loud thud and a sharp pain in her back, from landing on her maul.

“Saliah!” Varric called to her in a panicked tone.

She looked back to see her trio hesitate in leaving. She waved them off forcefully. “Get out of here! I’m fine.” She was relieved to see that they heeded her request and escaped. Saliah laid back for a second, waiting for the worst of the pain to subside. _I hate it when I do that_. —She mused to herself as she groaned from the pain, recollecting every time she had ever landed on her weapon.

As she rolled over and got up, she saw a figure emerge through the flames that encircled her. She quickly readied herself for whatever came, mindful to keep her weapon sheathed. _I don’t want to get to the fight just yet. I have to buy them time_ —Saliah reminded herself.

The skeletal monster approached her. Now that she was up close to it, she could see how revolting and deformed it was. Nine feet tall, with a strange and feathered armor across his shoulders that made him look falsely broader. The Elder one was equal parts living Red Lyrium, and flesh pulled over bone. His exposed ribcage showed glowing shards, like burning embers. His arms were gangly and long; his legs and skirts gave him a strange gliding/shuffling gate that had its own sort of grace. Saliah bit back her lip as she looked upon its face. It was as though its skin were hideously stretched out over a skull that wasn’t its own. From its left side, spikes of blood red Lyrium angled out at different points, piercing through the skin barbarically.

The ground shook around her suddenly as the Archdemon landed behind her. She pivoted around to meet it. It opened its maw and let out a blood-curdling cry, inches from Saliah’s face. The initial fear she felt quickly switched into primal fury as she bellowed back at it. It chuckled at her, licking its mouth and showing teeth that were as long as she was tall. Saliah steadied herself as she watched the ichor drip from its fangs. As if to show her up further, it reared its head back and roared again even louder. Saliah looked up at its deformed body, which also had shards of Lyrium poking through its dragon scales. She wondered if it had ever been anything else other than a demon.

“Enough!” The Elder One silenced the monster. _It listens to his commands_ —Saliah observed silently. Her primal senses were acutely aware that the monster was there to block her path back to Haven. She backed away from both of them and towards the trebuchets, staring down the Elder One.

“I heard that you wanted to see me.” Saliah shouted to him over the din of the fires.

“Pretender.” The Elder One replied in a thunderous and low voice. It was disturbingly human. “You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more.”

“Is that so?” Saliah replied, cocking her eyebrow. Her inner storm and her need to buy her people time continued to overcome her fear of the monsters facing her. “Enlighten me, then. What are you? What do you want?”

“Mortals beg for truth they cannot have. It is beyond what you are, what I was.” He glided towards her. Saliah stepped to the side, keeping him at a distance. She glanced over the horizon behind him, as he continued. “Know me, and know what you have pretended to be.”

“What I’ve pretended to be…and what is that, exactly? A nonsensical madman?” Saliah replied in a mocking tone. _How long can I keep this up? Hurry, Inquisition!_ – She silently pleaded with her people.

“Exalt the Elder One!” It demanded in anger. “The _will_ that is Corypheus!”

 _And now I have your name, asshole._ Saliah’s face did not betray her pleasure in the information. In that moment, Saliah’s core was resolute in her survival. She had to get this information to Leliana.

Corypheus stepped closer to her, she stepped back. The Archdemon screamed its roar at her. She looked back and forth between the two of them; forcing her self not to blindly start fighting them. She could feel the heat of the multiple fires raging around them. Their heat keened her resolve against the monsters, as she thought of all the people who died.

He extended a long, claw-like finger to her and pointed down. “You will kneel.” He commanded, staring her down.

“The fuck I will.” Saliah growled in defiance, her eyes glowering. She spat on the ground in front of him.

“You will resist,” he commented dismissively. “You will always resist. It matters not.”

Suddenly, Corypheus produced a strange, ridged orb from seemingly nowhere. He held it in his left hand as he reached towards Saliah with his right hand. She recoiled and moved back, stopping when she realized that she was backing into the Archdemon. It snapped its jaws at her, forcing her to move forward.

“I am here for the anchor.” He made his purpose known to her as he quickly closed the space between them. “The process of removing it begins now.”

Before Saliah could move, her branded hand exploded into a ball of green light that was out of her control. She looked down, surprised at its independence and the near-blinding pain that seared through her.

“It is your fault, _Herald_ ,” he mocked her with her title. “You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose.”

Saliah never broke his gaze, gritting her teeth against the mind numbing pain that drew her to her knees. With the last vestiges of control, she looked again to the horizon. It was dark.

“I do not know how you survived,” Corypheus said, oblivious to her ranging eyes. Saliah was relieved that he had no idea about her tribe or who she was, _really._ She was quite sure he didn’t care either.

“What marks you as ‘touched,’ what you flail at rifts,” he continued, “I crafted to assault the very heavens!” As if to punish her, he willed the mark to burn hotter as the strange orb glowed bright with a red light. Tendrils of red and green electricity bounced from it. “And you used the anchor to undo my work! The gall!” Saliah let out a yelp of pain as her vision went hazy.

Saliah swallowed hard and forced herself calm. _I have to keep him talking._ “What was the point of this blighted thing, then!” she grunted out in pain.

“To bring certainty where there is none,” Corypheus replied flatly. “For you, the certainty that I would always come for it.”

“That’s specific.” Saliah shot back sarcastically, annoyed with his nonsensical diatribe.

The pain stopped suddenly. Saliah silently thanked the Maker as she hunched over, holding her hand against her body. Before she could react, he raked her up off the ground. He held her in mid-air, by her left wrist. Her brand burned again, but less so. Her instincts told her it was from the proximity to him and that orb. She stared him square in the eyes.

“I once breached the Fade in the name of another,” he growled, looking down at her. “To serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person.” He lifted her higher so she was at eye level. Saliah bit into her inner cheek to keep from screaming out. “I found only chaos and corruption. For a thousand years I was confused – no more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world.”

 _He’s a magister._ —Saliah realized dully. She wasn’t sure how much more of the brand’s pain she could take.

Corypheus pulled her closer to him, tightening his ironclad grip. Any tighter, and Saliah knew he would break her wrist. “Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it was empty.”

“I pray that you die.” She hissed through the agony, pulling her maul and swinging it at his face in one motion.

He dodged it completely and flung her into the trebuchet, her back hitting flat against the wood with a loud crack. The force knocked her head against one of the metal grommets on the tower. She could feel blood seeping down the back her neck. She felt woozy for a moment. Reaching her last reserves of strength, her core snapped into a total rage state. She ignored all of her pain as she stood up suddenly, holding her maul in both hands as she held her stance on the base of the device. Her breathing increased in speed as she allowed her tribe’s gift to course through her.

“The anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling.” Corypheus growled with a look of surprise at her sudden revival. 

“That’s too bad.” Saliah rumbled with a vicious grin on her face. Her eyes met Corypheus’, and she saw him flinch just slightly. The dragon drew closer, taking a protective stance.

“So be it. I will begin again, find another way to deliver this world to the nation and god it requires.” He postured, slowly moving towards her.

“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Saliah said in a dead calm, her lips and nose twitching into a snarl. She readied her weapon to attack, just as a flash of light caught her eye, far above Haven’s skyline.

“It’s about time!” She said aloud to absent companions. Corypheus looked at her in confusion.

“I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You must die.” He thundered, trying to intimidate her once more.

Saliah held his attention for a moment as she saw a second flare go up. She grinned again, knowing she was right near the trigger.

“I have a recommendation for the next time we meet.” Saliah said in a mockingly helpful tone, dismissing his threat. He looked at her, indignant at her defiance.

“Don’t talk so much.” Saliah finished. She turned and ran before Corypheus and the dragon could react. She leaped down from the trebuchet, knocking the trigger with her maul as she came down. The machine volleyed its ammunition into the mountain above them. Almost immediately, the mountain’s summit exploded overhead, speeding an avalanche towards them.  "Enjoy your fucking prize!" She called over her shoulder as she ran.

Saliah heard the dragon screech behind her, and then the sound of its wings flapping. She didn’t turn around to see the wall of snow and rock that lunged towards her, but she felt its presence as she ran over the quaking ground. She looked around her to see where she could take shelter, and saw the boarded entrance to the caves under the town. She cut towards the hole, feeling the edges of the avalanche near her. She reached it and jumped towards it, roaring as she brought her maul down to break the boards. The boards gave out from under her weapon.

Falling into darkness as the avalanche covered the opening, she landed with a heavy _thud_ and blacked out.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man, this was a doozie! Poor Sal, she really got the shit kicked out of her.
> 
> This ran pretty close to the first act of IYRSB, with some additions and snippets here and there. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! 'Til next time!
> 
> ***The bookmarks and comments continue to surprise, delight, and inspire me. If you like what you're reading, lemme know! Thank you all for your continued <3\. Y'all are the bestest!!!***


	14. Helplessly Hoping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ow. Well, that sucked.

“Commander, we’ve completed the evacuation.” A young soldier said, approaching Cullen from below the mountain pass, ushering through the last supply cart. Cullen watched the village in the distance. The fires burned brightly, their yellow light casting a glow in the valley below them. Cullen’s mind wandered absently to the Chantry teachings of Andraste’s death by fire. _How fitting—_ he thought bitterly— _that Haven should fall in the way the Bride of the Maker did._

There were no sounds from Haven, giving no indication of how the plan fared. It had been several minutes since the last cry of the dragon was heard. Cullen knew that Saliah had been alive when her friends had left her. He prayed that she remained that way.

Cullen nodded in acknowledgement to the young man. He turned, looking to Sera and Dorian, who stood next to him at the rear of the displaced group. He grimaced, not believing what he was about to command the archer and the mage to do. The pair looked at him, their faces reflecting his own numbness.

“Light the flare.” Cullen said somberly. Sera wordlessly notched her arrow into her great-bow and held the tip towards Dorian. He, in turn, cast a small fire spell on it. Sera aimed the embered arrow into the air and drew her bow, releasing the solitary light overhead. Cullen followed the path of the light and snapped his head down to the village, seeking the result.

The yellow glow emanating from the village remained, and the mountains above were silent. Cullen counted in his head, each number increasing his frustration at the lack of change. _Please, Saliah—_ he pleaded with her silently, hoping the silence wasn’t a sign of her failure.

“Ready another.” Cullen mumbled, not breaking sight on the village.

“Commander,” Cassandra said in a dejected tone. “We risk exposure.”

Cullen turned and looked over his shoulder. Cassandra was there, just behind him, looking down to the village. Cullen had completely forgotten that Saliah’s entire Company was standing there (along with her maid, Leliana, and Josephine), silently awaiting news of her task.

“We can afford one more.” Cullen said, turning back around and looking beyond the valley, from where the legion came, to confirm its darkness. He motioned for Sera and Dorian to continue.

Seconds after the second flare flew, the side of the mountain overlooking Haven exploded, the sound delayed from its spectacle. As if in response, the dragon’s screeching echoed around them. The huge, black, winged shadow emerged from the horizon. Cullen sucked in his breath and held it, waiting to see which way the monster would fly. He breathed out as he watched it bank away from the surviving members of the Inquisition and Haven.

In minutes, their former stronghold was dark, entombed under a mountain’s worth of snow and rubble. Cullen looked down on the destruction, willing hope to win over the sinking feeling he felt. “She will make it.” He whispered to himself, forcing his faith into the words.

 _Make sure I see that flare, Cullen—_ Saliah’s voice echoed in his mind as he watched the avalanche bury her. He didn’t let himself remember her actions leading to the statement, for fear of what it would do to him. He already felt the beginnings of pain seep into him, though he was unsure if it was his addiction taking aim, or simply his conscience aching at what he’d done.

Cullen looked to the mountains behind him. Above the unknown mountain pass, a violent-looking storm front quickly approached. He sighed, silently cursing it. “Get word to the people that we must move and find shelter quickly.” He said to Saliah’s gathered companions. “A storm is approaching.”

As the group dispersed, Cullen looked back to Haven. “You will come back to us.” He said into the darkness. He turned and followed the rest of the survivors.

 

_Saliah looked upon him as he slept, less than an arm’s length away from her. His breath was heavy, quiet, and peaceful. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, as he turned his head to face her in his slumber. Cullen’s usually neatly kept hair was unruly, the curls covering parts of his forehead perfectly. Clear, early morning light bounced off of his naked shoulders and chest, highlighting every curve, detail, and little scar she could see. Saliah reached to him with her branded hand, extending her index finger and gently running it up and down the bridge of his nose, smiling quietly. His eyes fluttered open and met hers. He returned the smile as he rolled over and reached, pulling her to him. She felt sore all over as she was moved; surely the remnants of their first night together. Tucking her into his chest, he leaned in and kissed her. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as she parted her lips and let his tongue meet hers. She felt him pull her in more, his hand travelling to her rear. Her brand spat and hissed unexpectedly, causing her to pull back in surprise. She shrieked, seeing Corypheus’ face inches from hers._

_Suddenly, the warm afternoon sun beat down on her, making her armor borderline uncomfortable. Impossibly green, manicured lawns and topiaries surrounded her as she looked around in confusion. She walked, slowly recognizing the main garden path in her family’s estate. Quickening her pace, she reached the base of the stairs leading to the patio, flanked on either side by hydrangea bushes—their flowered crowns a collection of blue and violet jewel tones. She grinned in anticipation, glancing at the plants as she trotted up the bone white stairs. She made her way down the path, nearly reaching the patios, stopping abruptly when saw him: a young, white-haired boy in Circle robes. He smiled gently at her, as he turned and pointed. Following his gesture, Saliah saw Josephine, Leliana, and Cassandra, all laughing with her mother as they enjoyed high tea, dressed in the latest fashions of the Free Marches. Cullen kept vigil over them, clad in ceremonial Templar plate armor. They were resplendent in color, the ladies’ laughs and giggles tinkled like glass. Her brother turned again and looked at her, grinning from ear to ear as he ran towards her. Crying tears of joy, she fell to her knees and outstretched her arms, eager to greet him. Half way down the path, a black shadow suddenly enveloped Edwin and stopped him. She jumped to her feet, finding herself unable to move. She screamed to Cullen for help. He kept his watch over the women, who continued their visit and were totally unaware of the unfolding tragedy. The shadow solidified and Saliah screamed louder when she saw her brother held by Corypheus, his skeletal arm wrapped around the boy’s neck. Saliah struggled and thrashed against her paralysis. Corypheus stared at her as his other hand grabbed the top of Edwin’s head and pulled. Her brother’s face was emotionless as it was slowly separated from his body, bits of bone and muscle hanging from the base of his skull. Saliah’s mother looked up, just as Corypheus flipped the head in his palm, igniting it with the fade’s green light as he pushed his free hand towards Saliah. Her mother covered her mouth in horror as she shrieked “YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP, SALIAH!”_

“Mama.” Saliah sucked the word in with her breath, awaking with a jolt in a dimly lit cavern. Instantly, she was washed in pain and soreness as she recalled the fall. She closed her eyes, groaning loudly. Keeping her eyes closed, she slowly moved her legs, one at a time. Satisfied that they weren’t broken, she moved her left arm and then her right. Sharp pain shot through her right shoulder, causing her to cry out and sit up at once, disturbing the rubble and snow that covered her. Her left side and her back stabbed in pain, wrenching her back to the ground. Pain pulsed through her ruthlessly, making her nauseous and dizzy. She willed herself to accept the pain and calm herself.

Slowly, she fumbled at her supply pouch. She was dimly aware of her left wrist aching and her pounding head, but she tried to ignore them as she prayed for a healing potion. She rummaged through shattered glass until her gloved hand finally closed on an intact bottle.

“Praise the Maker.” She mumbled as she pulled the cork out with her teeth and drank. She waited for the potion to take effect, knowing that it would only negligibly heal her. “Just enough to move.” She begged into the cavern.

With the pain slightly lessened, Saliah slowly sat up. She clasped her right shoulder, feeling that it was badly dislocated. She looked up, seeing the entrance from where she came, about 40 feet above her. It was blocked, covered in snow and the remains of the slats that once covered it. She looked around her, seeing that she was in a naturally formed cavern. Surprised by the dim light in it, she looked for her maul and sighed relief when she saw it next to her. She reached for it and then grunted in pain as her shoulder reminded her it was injured. Screwing her face up in annoyance, she thought on how to get it to her—more over, how to carry it in her current state.

“This will be pleasant.” She said acerbically, unbuckling her scabbard and flipping it so she could store her maul with her left hand. Despite not moving her right arm, it ached and needled as she shifted and awkwardly readjusted the contraption. Scooting herself out from under the rubble, Saliah reached for her maul and grasped the pommel, pulling the weapon across her lap. She grasped it mid-haft and raised it over her head. Stars burst in her field of vision as she bayed in pain, her left side stabbing her repeatedly. She grunted and groaned, pulling her arm up and behind her to stow her heirloom. She panted as her back popped and ached from the weight of the hammer, starting at a point on the wall in an effort to ease her self.

Tucking her legs under her, Saliah stood up stiffly and slowly, trying to move her upper body as little as possible. She steadied her self against the wall of the cavern and looked around. It was darker where she was, but she saw a light in the distance. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, looking up to see the Chantry’s worked stone foundations. Her back ached as she started walking towards the light.

Crates and boxes were haphazardly scattered in the cavern, many of which had cloth and weapons poking out from the tops. She walked over to one and rummaged around, blessedly finding a length of cord and a good-sized blanket. Saliah clumsily knotted the cord into a loop and flung it over her shoulders, hissing and yelling her discomfort as she brought her right arm to rest through the two loops of the makeshift sling. She draped the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it into the chord and made for the light.

Travelling through a tunnel, Saliah came out into another cavern. The screams of Despair Demons surprised her, making her shrink back into the passage. The demons descended on her all at once. She shrieked in pain and inadequacy, dodging their ice rays as best she could. Shooting out her branded left hand and focusing, Saliah hoped there was a rift that she could close and banish the demons. Her hand jolted, shooting green light out and creating a small fissure. She looked up in shock as the screaming creatures shuddered and were sucked into the hole. Her hand jolted again as she forced it shut. The room hushed, with only the drip-drop of water resonating around her. Looking down to her hand and then into the room, she stumbled in and slowly continued making her way.

She leaned against the wall of yet another pass-through, finally reaching the source of the light. A mostly burned torch, hanging from the wall, signaled the end of the cavern. _They were here—_ Saliah thought, thinking of her people. The cavern’s opening revealed a howling blizzard just outside. The wind moaned, echoing around her. She walked, remembering Cullen telling her that they made for the tree line.

Stepping out into the storm, she whimpered at the biting cold that renewed the pain she felt throughout her body. Huddling into her makeshift cloak, she looked ahead, bolstering her resolve to find the Inquisition. _I am of the Storm and of the Land._ She began to chant her tribe’s mantra as she walked into the blizzard.

 

Cullen watched from the edge of the newly made camp. All around it, people hurried about to pitch tents and get the injured into the alcoves of the mountain’s bowl. Mages started small campfires as people huddled to them to try and keep warm in the freezing temperatures. Despite the sounds of industry, the camp was silent for conversation. Like him, the survivors quietly contemplated what had transpired, and the sacrifice that was made to ensure their survival. He shifted his weight and kicked his legs back against himself, trying to keep the mounting pain and exhaustion at bay. _Not now, not now—_ he rebuked the familiar pains of his addiction.

That night had been one of the worst, non-supernatural, things he had ever endured. Thankfully, once they had reached it, the mountain pass Roderick led them to was wide enough for the host of people to huddle together and keep from being frostbitten. The poor man had succumbed to his wounds halfway through the passage. The group had emerged to the other side several hours after, and into a much calmer weather pattern.

“Provisions report from the officers, Ser.” Selven, Cullen’s runner, broke his thoughts.

“Report.” Cullen said, gathering himself mentally.

The boy dutifully informed that there was enough shelter for the survivors, between tents and the caves they had found. Food rations were becoming an issue, but the archers were already preparing to go out to hunt the next morning. Watches had been set already, mainly around the camp. He reported on the casualties, citing that the mages had taken the most. He reminded the Commander that there were many away teams in the field, all over Ferelden and Orlais.

“Let’s hope they keep the faith and stay put.” Cullen said in an absent tone. “Thank you, Selven. Now, go get warm and find some rest.”

The young man looked over Cullen’s shoulder, into the night. He looked back to him. “Andraste will bring her back to us, Ser.” He said in a hopeful tone. He saluted and left.

Cullen turned back and looked into the darkness. He knew he had to go and report the information to the rest of the advisors, but he couldn’t tear himself away from his vigil. He silently prayed that she would appear at any moment. His mind wandered and darted to every memory he had of Saliah, finally settling on the kiss she planted on him before she left to face the Elder One. _Maker, please, bring her back to me. To us. We need her._ He grimaced deeply and crossed his arms, knowing that with every moment that passed, her return became more and more unlikely.

“Here, take this.” Cassandra said quietly as she approached, handing Cullen a metal cup. Varric and the Bull walked alongside her.

“What is it?” Cullen said, taking the cup and bowing his head in thanks.

“Warmed water.” Cassandra replied simply. She turned and joined the other two, who were staring off into the distance. They all shared a distant look, somewhere between disbelief and gloom.

“I need to speak with you and the advisors, Cassandra.” Cullen said, not looking away from the horizon. He turned to her and motioned.

“We’ll keep watch for you.” The Bull said, not changing his stance. Varric only nodded his head and adjusted Bianca in its sling.

The two walked silently to Josephine and Leliana, who were warming themselves at a fire by the healer’s tent. Mother Giselle, Ana, and healer mages were darting in and out of it, setting it up as best they could.

Cullen reported what Selven had told him, trying to keep his voice as official as possible. He turned to Leliana, and nodded approvingly. “It was very wise of you to mobilize the requisition corps and ready the supplies when the alarm bell rang, Leliana. Thank you.”

Leliana shrugged as Josephine and Cassandra echoed Cullen. “Andraste granted me wisdom in the moment.” She said, looking into the fire. She looked behind her, to where Varric and the Iron Bull stood watch, and back again. “I pray that she grants us Saliah’s deliverance.”

The group fell silent at the mention of the Herald’s name. They all looked exhausted and defeated. Josephine’s shoulders shook and she began to weep, covering her face with her hands. Cullen wondered if Josephine had ever seen anything like this, thinking to her time in Orlais’ court. He reached his hand out and petted her shoulder, trying to offer the woman some comfort, despite not feeling any of his own.

“Let’s all get some rest. We will figure the rest out in the light of day.” Leliana continued, wrapping her arm around her friend and comforting her, her own face grim.  She led Josephine to a nearby tent, entering with her.

“I agree. You need rest, Cullen.” Cassandra said, turning to Cullen.

“I will rest when she returns.” He rumbled obstinately, not meeting her face.

“Cullen, you’ve endured enough for one night. Your withdrawal symptoms—”

“She brought a mountain down on herself to safeguard our survival.” He cut her off, his eyes flashing at her. “I think I can endure a little discomfort for her sake.” Twinges of pain in his gut told him Cassandra was right. He pushed the pain from his mind, looking back into the fire and drinking from the nearly forgotten cup.

Cassandra studied him, her arms crossed over her chest. She knew his frustration was not for her. She dropped her arms and stepped to him, putting her hand on his forearm. “Very well, then. We will keep watch together.” She said gently. She offered him the path and they walked back to where Varric, Bull, and now Dorian and Solas stood. Together, the group peered into the darkness, silently praying for Saliah’s safekeeping.

 

 _I am of the Storm, I am of the Land. I am of the Storm, I am of the Land._ Saliah repeated her mantra continuously as she made her way through the blizzard. She did not know for how long she had walked; all she knew is that she had never been so cold in her life. Her face hurt from the stinging snow that pelted her relentlessly. At one point, she had found an area where the snow seemed lumpier and wasn’t up to her thighs. Deciding it was the remains of the Inquistion’s escape, she followed it as best she could, stumbling and slipping in the deep snow.

She shivered into her useless blanket; she was cold enough that her pain had mostly numbed. She pressed forth, silently chanting. _I am of the Storm, I am of the Land. I am of the Storm, I am of the Land. I am of the Storm, I am of the—_ “Why can’t I be of this fucking blizzard!” She shouted deliriously into the blinding snowfall. Her side stabbed her at the action, making her fumble and fall into the snow. She groaned, rolling over awkwardly onto her maul and closing her eyes. She was so weary, hungry, tired, wet, and frozen that she barely knew how to get up. Exhaustion seeped into every part of her as snow quickly covered her.

Unexpectedly, the false memory of Corypheus in her bed, and beheading her brother took hold. The thought ushered in the very real memories of what she had encountered hours before. Her core rumbled, urging her to get up and keep moving. Saliah’s eyes flew open, and she willed her quaking body up. She yelped in pain as she stood upright, her back and shoulder admonishing her for keeping her weapon. She girded herself, and kept moving. Now, her mantra was replaced with memories of the confrontation. Her accumulating fury at Corypheus fueled her forward. She knew she wouldn’t last much longer out in the elements, but she forced herself to keep on.

As the storm began to abate, Saliah saw a narrow canyon not far ahead. She looked around her and saw that she was above the tree line. Her lumpy trail hadn’t led her astray. She made to smile at her success, but couldn’t really move her cheeks through her shivering. She worked her way to it, grunting and grinding her teeth as every step out of the knee-deep snow, and subsequent step back in, dully jolted her with new slaps of pain. Reaching the entrance, she looked around and saw the rock-faces’ natural awnings protecting tracks and cartwheel marks. She continued on, knowing now that she was almost there.

 

The sky had cleared, and twilight had begun to change its color over the sleeping camp. Cullen and the gathered companions kept their eyes on the lightening horizon, all of them forgetting their exhaustion. Without warning, Cullen saw movement in the pass. He blinked; making sure his eyes weren’t playing sleepy tricks. He looked again, seeing a form emerging from the canyon, a hundred yards away.

“It’s her!” Cullen said breathlessly as took off towards the shambling creature in the distance. He heard Cassandra praise the Maker, others whoop happily, and the crunch of snowy footfalls behind him. He pushed himself to move faster, seeing Saliah’s frozen, white topknot as he neared her. She seemed to see him and tried to hurry herself. Her bumbling movement told him that she was injured, and it only urged him to run harder.

Cullen saw her stumble. Not stopping, he dropped to his knees, momentum and his metal grieves propelling him across the snow, as he slid and caught her at an angle before she hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around her crunchy, ice-covered blanket and buried his head into her frozen neck, sobbing jubilant tears.

She squeaked weakly in pain and rasped his name, causing Cullen to throw his arm back. He saw then that she looked horrible. Her gray/green eyes were open but glassed over and not focusing anywhere. Her skin was an alarming shade of blue, and her lips were purple, chapped, and moving quickly around her chattering teeth. Her right eye was so black from a bruise that it concealed her tattoo. With her branded hand, she reached up from under herself and awkwardly clung to his furred lapel and tried to bury her face there, her grip on him shaky from her shivering and shuddering. He was shocked to feel her maul, through the blanket and on her back.

“Bull, take her hammer.” Cullen called over his shoulder. Instantly, the Iron Bull was there, gingerly removing the weapon. He stepped back as Cullen carefully and tenderly gathered her up. He felt her tense and grunt with every movement, crying out when he jostled her shoulder. “I have you.” He whispered, pulling her shivering body close to him. He rolled back on his haunches and smoothly stood up, surprised at her lightness. He turned, walking quickly back to the camp.

“Tell Mother Giselle to ready a bed!” Cassandra shouted urgently to Varric as she saw Cullen turn around. Her heart stopped at seeing the shuddering body hanging limply in Cullen’s arms, with the Iron Bull behind them holding Saliah’s maul. Varric’s eyes widened at the sight as he skidded in the snow. He turned and ran for the healer’s tent, with Dorian and Solas behind him.

Cullen covertly peppered Saliah’s forehead with kisses as he walked. “My exquisite, stubborn, courageous, magnificent woman.” He said in a low timber into her hairline  between pecks. He felt her shift and mumble incoherently, all the while shivering violently. He silently thanked the Maker for hearing his prayers, and prayed again that she would make it through.

 

Ana was waiting for them outside the healers’ tent. Her hands steepled over her mouth when Cullen approached with Saliah shaking and shuddering in his arms. The elf quickly inspected the back of Saliah’s head and then threw the flap of the tent open.

Cullen hurried her to the back and gently laid her down. A flurry of movement around the injured warrior took over. Cullen and Ana worked to unbuckle Saliah’s plate from her body, as Mother Giselle inspected her head wound.

Cullen was vaguely aware that he was undressing her, but his duty dampened any distraction her coming nudity would have offered him. Saliah whined in pain when Cullen unbuckled and removed her scabbard. He stopped to quickly consider how to remove her pauldron and bracer from her injured arm, not knowing if there was broken bone. Ana stepped around and dismissed him to the cot’s other side; her hands deftly and gently removed the armor on Saliah’s arm, as well as the sling. Saliah grunted and babbled words from chattering teeth.

Once her plate and chainmail were off completely, Cullen pulled his utility knife and cut though her under layer, pulling the soaked garment off her left side and helping Ana pull it out from under her. He saw a glimpse of aubergine bruises all along her left side as Mother Giselle promptly covered her in blankets. She laid there, a shivering heap. Her eyes were rolling and blinking, not focusing anywhere.

“She’s going into shock.” Mother Giselle said quietly. “We need to warm her up.”

Throwing propriety and jealousy to the wind, Cullen quickly glanced at Dorian. “Get under the covers with her, Dorian.” Dorian looked back, eyebrows arched in shock. “You’re a fire mage.” He said in explanation. “Get in there and _slightly_ warm yourself. You need to do it slowly or you’ll burn her skin.”

“Brilliant thinking, Commander.” Dorian said as he rushed to her left side and slipped in. He settled, folding his arm under his head. Saliah looked at him and then back around, her teeth still chattering. “Hush, my auspicious friend. You’re safe and about to be warm.” He said, petting her head. His tan skin flushed as he increased his temperature.

 “All of you out.” Mother Giselle said to them in a gracefully stern tone. “She needs rest and we have much work to do.”

The group filed out of the tent and stood outside. The sun was rising over the mountain range above them. They all looked at one another, silently sharing smiles and chuckles of relief. They all took their leave to find sleep, Cullen and Cassandra sharing knowing glances as they departed.

Cullen arrived to his tent, seeing Selven and a few other officers still asleep. He fell into his cot, not bothering to remove his armor. Exhaustion hit him like a battering ram. He could feel his symptoms taking advantage of his state. He didn’t care; Saliah was alive. Her will to live brought him a strange sort of boldness, daring his demons to try and keep him awake. He breathed deep, falling to sleep immediately.

 

Saliah dreamily heard rustling sounds and footsteps around her. Opening her eyes, she saw shadows dancing on the roof of a tent. _I am making a habit of waking up in strange places—_ she thought to herself, taking a deep breath. She noticed that while it still ached, her breath didn’t make her side stab in pain. She moved her arm to inspect it, feeling bandages under a woolen shift.

Saliah looked around, seeing Varric sitting in a chair next to her cot. He was reading something. Saliah smiled and hoped it was his latest manuscript.

Her movement caught the dwarf’s attention, making him look up. “He-e-ey, Beautiful!” He said in a happy tone. “It’s about time you woke up.” He smiled, putting his papers aside.

“Varric.” She said, smiling quietly.

“How are you feeling?”

She chuckled humorlessly, “like a mountain fell on me—ow.” She winced at the laugh. “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“Maker’s Breath, we don’t have time for that.”

Varric chuckled, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Well, we’re glad you’re back.” He looked at her for a beat. “Saliah, you were saying a name, just now as you slept.”

“Corypheus?” She asked, vaguely remembering his role in yet another nightmare.

Varric nodded his head. “Who is he?”

“The Elder One. It’s his name.” Saliah replied. Varric’s face darkened, looking at her for several moments. Then, it brightened as he patted her shoulder again.

“I should go let the others know you’re awake.” He said, standing and stretching. He looked down to her, smiling playfully. “There’s a certain curly-haired fella who’s going to be mighty disappointed that he wasn’t the one to see you wake up.” He winked and then chuckled at Saliah’s poked-out tongue. He turned and left.

Moments later, the tent snapped open and Cullen entered hurriedly. He stopped and grinned when he saw her blinking back at him. Saliah smiled in return.

“It’s you.” She sighed in a quiet voice, forgetting herself. She was washed in relief to see him. She didn’t think she’d get to again.

“Indeed it is, my lady.” Cullen said, walking back to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright considering, but sore. I’d give you a wittier answer, but I already used it on Varric.” Saliah replied, smiling. Cullen chuckled as he sat down in the vacant chair. Comforted by his presence, she started to feel sleepy and closed her eyes. As they closed, she remembered her entire ordeal. Her eyes flew open again and she sat up with a start, holding her side. “Corypheus” she grunted. She looked at Cullen, who had sprung to action and was now sitting behind her, supporting her back against his side. “Cullen, you need to get the ladies. I have to tell you what I saw.” She squeezed here eyes shut and hung her head, gritting her teeth at the dull pain in her back.

“We are already here.” Cassandra said, leading the women back to her. They sat around her, Cassandra sitting next to her on the cot. She took Saliah’s hand and smiled. “It is a relief to see you awake and temperamental, my friend.”

Josephine and Leliana both leaned in, one at a time, and hugged her gently. Josephine took her other hand and squeezed it, smiling with glassy eyes. Behind them, the rest of her troupe filed in. Ana cut through all of them and stood by Saliah protectively, on the other side of the cot. Bull was standing in the back, leaning on the head of her maul. The tent became very cozy, very quickly. Saliah beamed, her eyes brimming with tears of happiness and relief at seeing that they all made it through, alive.

Saliah sniffed and wiped her nose. She looked at all of them in turn and began telling them of her ordeal with the Elder One. When she mused that Corypheus was a Magister, Dorian made a sound of disgust and shook his head in shame. Saliah gave him a comforting look and continued. She confessed that she was confident he survived the avalanche and was still at large.

“If this Corypheus is indeed who he says he is, then he is whom scripture describes as the one whose hubris bought on the Blights.” Leliana said gravely.

“And a monster beyond imagining.” Mother Giselle commented, coming around Cullen to inspect Saliah. The group shifted quietly, considering Saliah’s story.

“Where does the Inquisition stand?” Saliah asked, looking at the advisors. Their silence and shifting glances told her all she needed to know. “Well, we are here and alive. So long as we have that, we’ll figure out the rest.” She smiled at them all, forcing herself to put on a brave face. She knew, however, that with no place to go, they would not be much of a force for long. She raked her mind to think of a solution, realizing that she felt very tired once more. She sagged back against Cullen, her eyes getting very heavy.

“I think that’s enough for now.” Ana said shortly, motioning to Cullen to lay her back. Cullen wordlessly did as he was told, and then sat himself back in the chair. Ana leaned over her maternally. “My lady, you are nearly healed. With a little more rest, and time with the healers, you will be fine. But rest first, conquer later.” She petted Saliah’s hair and smiled.

Saliah nodded her head sleepily, closing her eyes. She heard them leave, and fell asleep. She was vaguely aware of Cullen’s fingers laced through her own, with his index finger gently petting the skin between her knuckles.

 

Saliah awoke again later, to the sounds of her colleagues hollering and arguing outside. She sat up slowly, shaking her head at the familiar sound of a war council meeting. She felt herself, relieved that there was no pain, only a little stiffness. She pulled the covers off and sat up, looking for clothing. Mother Giselle was right there, handing her boots and new clothes. Saliah took them gratefully as the Chantry priestess sat across from her. Saliah silently dressed, listening to Cullen and the women go at one another.

“They’ve been at it for hours, I bet.” Saliah said knowingly, lacing up her boot.

“They have that luxury, thanks to you.” Mother Giselle replied.

“I should go out there and help plan. All fighting gets us is another headache.” Saliah said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her arms dropped to her lap as she looked at the woman. “What do you make of all this, Mother?”

The elder woman looked at her thoughtfully. “We saw our defender stand, and fall. Then, you were returned to us. The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more our trials seem ordained.”

“I survived that avalanche with luck and a little will, Mother. I am no resurrected savior.” Saliah replied in an even tone.

“Of course not, there is no returning from beyond the veil. And yet, the people know what they saw. What they _believe_ they saw. If this Corypheus is who we believe him to be, it is all the more reason to believe that Andraste would choose someone to rise against him, in the defense of all. That is what I make of this, Herald. You,” she took Saliah’s hands into her own, “continue to be the embodiment of hope and strength to these people. You continue to be Andraste’s chosen champion in the face of this evil.”

Saliah held the woman’s gaze for a moment, noticing that the others had fallen silent. She sighed. “I believe in the Maker, his Mysteries and Wyld, Mother. I was raised to believe in Andraste’s plight. But, regardless of what providence may have branded me; I have not felt their presence. Despite my faith, and the faith put in me, the enemy is real and a very physical, dangerous threat. We cannot match it on belief alone.” She stood, releasing the Mother’s hands gently. “Thank you, for all you have done for me, and for your counsel. I think I’ve rested long enough.” Mother Giselle nodded as Saliah left.

Saliah stepped out into the cold night, rolling her fingers against the palm of her branded hand. Her advisors and companions were awkwardly silent, as Inquisition troops and civilians milled about. The uncertainty in the air was palpable. Saliah surveyed them all silently, wondering what the next step could be. Where would they go to find a home?

She heard the tent flap rustle, and next to her stood the Chantry Mother. She looked to the people, and then without warning, began singing. Her alto voice sang an old Chantry hymnal about faith in the darkest times, which Saliah remembered from her youth. As the woman sang, the people around her stopped and looked at her. One by one, the people kneeled in front of Saliah, taking up the song. Finally, she heard Leliana, Cullen, and the others begin to sing.

All movement stopped as most of the Inquisition kneeled before their Herald and sang their faith in unison. Saliah was overwhelmed by their actions, not knowing what to do with her self. She watched them all silently, and then took the hands of those who offered theirs to her in reverence. Mother Giselle led them through to the end of the song. At the end, many stood and cheered at their Herald’s healthy return. The mood in the camp instantly improved. Saliah smiled at the woman’s instincts.

“An army needs more than an enemy; it needs a cause.” Mother Giselle said, looking at the crowd. She looked over her shoulder at Saliah and took her hand again, squeezing it. “And faith is made stronger by facing doubt. Untested, it is nothing.” She offered her a quiet smile and returned to the tent’s interior.

“A wise woman, worth heeding. Her kind understands the moments that unify a cause, or fracture it.” Solas said quietly as he walked up, startling Saliah. She jumped. Solas chuckled and looked at her somberly. “A word, Saliah.”

“Of course.” Saliah said, following the elf as he walked away from the encampment. She delighted in her ease of movement, and that Solas was not coddling her.

“The orb Corypheus carries, it is elven,” Solas said as they walked through the clear night. The snow’s reflection of the moon lit their way. “Corypheus used the orb to unlock the breach; it is likely what caused the explosion at the temple. I am concerned how people will react when they learn of its origin.”

Saliah listened, thinking of the implications of this on her elven allies. On all elves. _The fallout could be considerable, he’s right to worry_ —Saliah thought to herself. “What is the orb, Solas? How do you know of it?”

“It is one of many foci. The ancient gods used it to channel their magicks. I have seen the memories in the fade—old memories of older magic.” Solas said, stopping and facing Saliah.

Saliah remembered the stories of the old gods from her time with the Tribe. “Then it is older than the Imperium?”

Solas nodded, the way a teacher commends a pupil. “He may think it Tevinter, but the truth is that the Imperium built its magic on the bones of my people.” Solas said, his voice hinting his disgust. He stiffened his posture, taking on an official stance “Knowing or not, he risks our alliance. I cannot stand for my people to be blamed.”

Saliah considered his words, knowing he meant what he said. “Well,” she looked back at the camp, “I think they are more concerned with freezing than they are with blaming. And I will not let them lay this at your, or any elf’s, feet, my friend.” Saliah looked to him reassuringly.

Solas relaxed, looking visibly relieved at her promise. “Then we are agreed,” he continued walking. “As for our lack of abode, I may have a solution.”

They walked for a bit longer until they reached a solitary brazier. It was wrought iron, and felt old. Solas approached it and lit it with magical fire.

“What is this, Solas?” Saliah asked, curiously looking at the object.

“It is a marker; a trailhead of sorts. It will lead us. You will lead us.” Solas looked at her over the flames. “By attacking the Inquisition, Corypheus changed it. He changed you, and your mark.” Solas motioned to her hand. Saliah thought back to the cavern, remembering how she opened a new rift.

Solas looked back to the flame, as though he were reading a map. “Scout to the north. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it, a place where the Inquisition can build. Where it can grow. We can reach it in 10 days.”

“What is this place?” Saliah asked. Solas only killed the flame and looked at her with a quizzical smile.

“The flame won’t tell me. It only urges me to help you get there.” He responded.

Saliah knew this was old magic she encountered. Somewhere in her, it felt almost druidic. It felt right. She looked back at Solas and nodded her head. “Thank you, my friend. You are our salvation.”

“Do not thank me, my lady. The flame will not speak to simply anyone. I had to bring you here to light it.” He replied solemnly. Without another word, he turned and walked back to the camp. Saliah followed him silently, daring to hope that they may have found a way forward.

Coming back to the edge of camp, Cullen approached her with a concerned look on his face. “Where did you go?” He asked, nodding in response to Solas bidding them good night.

“To find a solution to our problems.” Saliah said, looking up to him. “Tell the troops to spread the word. We leave in the morning, Commander.” She smiled.

Cullen looked at her incredulously. “Just like that? You’ve found a place?”

“Yes. Well, Solas found it, after a fashion. But I have to lead us there, apparently.” Saliah said, realizing that she sounded a wee bit mad.

“And where is this place?”

“I haven’t the foggiest, Cullen.”

Cullen cocked his eyebrow, suspecting magic was afoot. “And you believe Solas?”

“Implicitly.” 

Cullen put his hand over his mouth and dragged it down, revealing a smile as he looked out over his troops. He shook his head, whispering a chuckle, and grabbed her to hug her. “Maker, it’s good to have you back, Saliah.” He said into the top of her head, holding her tight. Saliah smiled at the relief in his voice, wrapping her arms around his waist.

 

10 days later, Saliah had led the Inquisition deep into the Frostback Mountains. It was slow going, but an easy expedition altogether. The days were filled with scouting and tracking, finding forgotten roads and trails. The nights were filled with the sounds of laughter and hope. Saliah worked hard to keep spirits up, taking time to talk with the people about the wonder of the mountains, the beauty of the fauna, and anything else that would keep their minds off of the fall of Haven. Her companions and advisors followed her lead, making sure to take time to break bread with everyone and enliven their spirits. All the while, Saliah simply felt like she knew where she was going, with no need for a map. Deep from her core she led the way, with Solas helping as her guide.

That afternoon, Saliah and Solas walked to the summit of a mountain ridge. Saliah’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the spectacle. A massive stone fortress impossibly jutted up from the bald mountain peak below it. Leading to it was a long causeway that gracefully straddled two deep and narrow canyons, its foundations growing from the tops of the mountain peaks. Trees sporting the colors of autumn peeked up from within the castle keep, lending an explosion of color and life to the stone. From nowhere, a waterfall fell from the side of the fortress. It was magnificent and severely beautiful, especially as it was surrounded by the snow-capped summits of the mountain range. The afternoon sun shone over it, lending it an energy that Saliah could barely surmount to behold.

“Skyhold.” Solas said simply, as if informing her that it had told Solas its name.

Saliah burst into laughter, not taking her eyes of the phenomenon. Her sounds were those of joy and promise. For the first time, in a long time, Saliah felt genuine hope at their odds. She looked at Solas, and grinned in gratitude. “Well done, my friend.” She looked back to their new home. “Well done.”

Her companions and advisors were quick to follow them, all stopping in their tracks at the sight of Skyhold. She looked at them beaming, and then back again to take in more.

“Oh yes, this will do quite nicely.” Cullen said with a grin on his face as he approached the two of them. He offered his hand in congratulations to the mage. Solas took it gingerly, clearly taken aback at the Commander’s action.

“You like it, huh?” Saliah said playfully, looking over and up at him.

“Indeed I do, my lady.” He said, taking in the beauty of it all. “Indeed I do.”

Saliah smiled again, stepping to the path below. She looked up at all of them, and then back. She laughed again, joyously punching the air with her fist.

“We’re going to _win._ ” She said confidently, stepping forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this chapter came from my thought that the Inquisitor bounces back awfully easy, considering that she squares of against *the* original darkspawn and a friggin archdemon. Oh, and then triggered an avalanche and then fell 40 feet, and walked through a blizzard. 
> 
> yeah, not so much.
> 
> Anyway, I also wanted to play a bit with how they found Skyhold, since I always interpreted that random light pole as Solas realizing what it was. 
> 
> ***Bookmarks, kudos, and comments continue to surprise, delight, and inspire me. If you like what you're reading, please let me know! Feedback is also great, as it helps me be a stronger writer. Thank you all for your continued <3\. Y'all are the bestest!!!***


	15. Movin' on Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's bigger than a deluxe apartment, but you get my meaning. ;)

The closer the Inquisition came to their fortress, the more amazing it was to behold. It took them nearly another day to reach the base causeway’s approach. Skyhold was an intimidating sight encompassing the skyline. Saliah and her companions led the way, taking turns to go back and assist the other settlers with the carts, the children, and other assorted tasks. The prevailing sentiment was one of hope and excitement to reach and discover their new home.

When they arrived to the area below Skyhold, they found the ruins of a stone village, roughly the size of Haven. The buildings roofs were largely rotted through, likely from years of abandonment. But, their foundations were sound, and the people seemed all too willing to get working on rebuilding. Saliah could hear Threnn and the others in the Requisition Corps busily planning on how best to quickly get the supplies they would need. She found herself relieved to finally hear the sounds of planning ahead, rather than planning for basic survival. 

“We should camp here for the night.” Saliah said to her immediate group as they approached the main square. “Then, tomorrow we can make for the fortress.”

“I agree.” Cassandra said, nodding her head as she looked around. “This will serve nicely for the townsfolk. They can begin to rebuild here.” Saliah noted that it was the most relaxed she had seen her friend since Haven fell.

“We will still need to find new trade routes for our mercantile allies to reach us,” Josephine said, studying the town layout. “I have already started mapping the route we’ve taken. It should not be too difficult, assuming that there are routes that lead to Orlais, as well as Ferelden.” She primly motioned to the map she was carrying. Saliah chuckled at her friend’s resourcefulness.

Cullen joined in the chuckle. “Never underestimate the power of an uncomfortable Antivan noble.” He joked, smiling good-naturedly to Josephine.

Josephine feigned annoyance at his comment. “If we are to make a permanent home here,” she said as she motioned upwards to the castle, “it will have to decorated in a fashion worthy of its architecture. And, if it’s anything as glorious up close…”

“I see your point, Lady Josephine.” Cullen agreed, ginning and winking a side-glance to Saliah.

Saliah smiled and shook her head. “Don’t tease her, Cullen.” She looked to Josephine. “Thank you for your forethought, Josephine. Now, we just need to figure out how to get word out.”

“Fortunately, most of the ravens have followed us.” Leliana said as she approached. She pointed upwards to the murder of crows flying overhead. “It took them awhile to find us, but I think we have most. I will start to send word to the away teams that were out in the field when we were attacked.”

Saliah looked up at the birds, realizing that her parents likely didn’t know she was alive. _I will write them once I know we’re safe._ Saliah promised, chagrinned for putting the Inquisition first. “Alright, I am going to see what Ana needs of me. I’m sure she’s helping get food ready.” Saliah nodded to the advisors and took her leave. She and Cullen held each other’s glance for a beat longer, making Saliah blush. She smiled at him and left.

As Saliah left, Leliana motioned to the advisors to gather close to her. “I think it is time we name her Inquisitor. Once we are settled in Sklyhold.”

“Yes, that is the best choice.” Cassandra nodded her head, looking back at her friend. “The people already think of her as our leader. And her celebrity as Herald played a large role in the Inquisition’s success, before the fall of Haven. I imagine it will only grow, once the story of her survival gets out.”

“Do you think she will accept it, Cassandra?” Josephine asked. “While she is titled, and many times over it seems, she doesn’t fully embrace any of them.”

“She will.” Cullen interrupted unintentionally. His face was distracted and somber as he watched Saliah and Ana fuss at the food provisions. He turned back to the trio. “She’s already told me that she will do whatever it takes to stop Corypheus, and proved her point in Haven.” He grimaced slightly, remembering the ordeal. “While she doesn’t necessarily like her title as Herald, she knows that she means something to these people. Honestly, I think she’ll have an easier time being seen as the Inquisitor than as a holy symbol.”

“She will be both, Cullen.” Leliana replied in a soft tone. The three women looked at him then, all sharing the same look of concern for the Commander.

Cullen read their faces instantly and began waving his hands in protest, blushing furiously. “My…affections for her will play no role in this, ladies. The Inquisition must prevail above all else, and Saliah is the only choice. Know that I fully understand that.” He dropped his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

“You know, it would be alright…if it did happen, that is.” Leliana replied. “I certainly didn’t mean to imply that she would be off limits. I think it might actually be a bright point in all of this. Both of you—”

Cullen cleared his throat. “Yes, well…” he looked up at the three of them. “I,” he cleared his throat again, steadying himself. “First we need to make sure we are fully secured and settled here. Then, I…suppose I—” Cullen looked at the three of them again. He abruptly turned and walked away, muttering something about needing a provisions report.

The three women silently watched him leave. They turned to one another and exchanged knowing smiles and chuckles.

\--

Saliah emerged from her tent just before dawn the next day, seeing only the mess staff readying breakfast. Sitting next to a campfire, Saliah poured herself a cup of tea and looked up at Skyhold, whose battlements and causeway encompassed much of the skyline. Since they had arrived there, Saliah couldn’t shake the strange sense of calling she felt from the fortress. As Saliah was contemplating her strange reaction, her thoughts were broken by footsteps. She smiled in greeting as Varric approached her.

“Good morning, Beautiful!” Varric said in a cheerfully muted tone.

“I was wondering where you’d wandered off to.” Saliah replied to her tent mate, patting the seat next to her. “What has you up so early?”

“Well,” Varric began as he sat, “now that the Nightingale has our communications back up and running, I went to ask her if I could send a few ravens to my associates. Let them know that I lived through another adventure and all.” Varric poured himself a cup of the strong tea. He sat back and looked up at the fortress. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Saliah replied, looking up. “It’s the strangest thing, Varric.” She looked to him. “I feel like it’s calling to me.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Varric chuckled. “You always have the weirdest shit happen to you. Let’s just hope it’s not some strange old fuck trying to lure you to your death, again.”

The pair laughed at Varric’s dark humor. Saliah considered how much they’d seen together, to be able to laugh at such a thing. The pair fell silent as they watched the sun crest over the battlements. The sight of it only made Saliah more anxious and eager to explore them.

\--

“We’re almost there!” Saliah called back to her group. She looked ahead, seeing the causeway stretched out before her. The urge to get to Skyhold’s keep had only increased the closer she got to it. Saliah had not noticed that she ran the last few hundred yards, until she realized that she had left most of the group behind her, save for Cassandra, Cullen, and the other warriors in her party. Solas had also kept the pace, and seemed equally as intent on getting inside.

“Do you feel that?” Saliah asked, looking to Solas. Solas only nodded his reply, giving a curious look to the stone fortress. Saliah looked back to the causeway, steadying her self against the overwhelming pull from within.

“What is it you feel?” Cassandra asked.

“It’s…” Saliah tried to verbalize it in her head, “as though it’s telling us to hurry.”

“It may be a trap. We should proceed carefully.” Cullen commented in a cautious tone.

“No, there is no trap here.” Solas replied. “This place is magically warded. It called us here and simply wants us to get inside.” He looked to Saliah. “I believe this is a continuation of the spell that brought us here.”

“I don’t think Skyhold is going anywhere.” Dorian commented breathlessly as he approached. “Perhaps we stroll the rest of the way, hmm?” He eyed her with an annoyed look. It was clear to Saliah that he wasn’t taken with the sensation that ran through her and Solas.

Saliah laughed. “I’m sorry, my friend. We will walk the rest of the way.”

As they traversed it, Saliah was struck dumb by the views the causeway provided them. Its height and build made it seem as though they were walking through the air. Cullen looked around approvingly, muttering comments about ideal defensibility to Cassandra and Leliana.

“This place,” Saliah began as they stepped into the courtyard. “It feels… like the Arbor Wylds.” Saliah frowned and looked around incredulously. It was an odd feeling. One that Saliah didn’t think could happen. Skyhold felt ancient, like the oldest and deepest parts of the Wylds. There was magic here, seemingly permeating every stone. While surprised, Saliah found a sense of comfort from it _._

“Ancient hold for a worthy deed. It feels like home here.” Cole spoke up suddenly, looking to Saliah with a gentle smile. Saliah was equally startled by his insightful comment and not realizing he was there. 

“Do you think it’s druidic?” Cassandra asked, slowly looking at the strange boy.

“No.” Saliah said quickly, shaking her head. “Druids don’t work stone in this fashion. But, the magic here is old. I imagine it’s old elven magic. It’s just strange that it feels so…familiar. It’s also oddly warm here.” Saliah finished, realizing that it was easily 20 to 30 degrees warmer inside the castle walls.

“The stonework looks dwarven. And Saliah’s right, it’s old; probably predates Ferelden.” Varric commented, inspecting the inner causeway from the keep to the battlements. He glanced at his companions, chuckling at their incredulous looks. “I’m a dwarf.” He offered in explanation. “Like it or not, I practically bleed stonemasonry.”

“Let’s have a look around.” Cassandra suggested, smirking at Varric’s comment.

In comparison the outer walls’ majesty, the interior of Skyhold was quite rundown. While the buildings’ and battlements’ stonework were untouched by time, many of its wooden roofs and doors were well and rotted. The area was overrun with weeds and detritus. It was clear that this place had stood uninhabited for a very long time.

Saliah, Dorian, Cassandra, and Cullen split off together to explore the castle. As they worked their way through the throne room in the main keep, Saliah was taken aback as they walked through a doorway that led into an atrium.

“It’s a Druid’s grove.” She said breathlessly, quickly entering the inner garden beyond the doorway and looking around. “Well, more of a garden, really. It’s too small to be a full grove.” She continued, clapping her hands over her mouth in delight. She looked to Cullen. “Look at the colors and the plants, Cullen!” She said in an excited tone, knowing he would understand.

The garden was lush, vibrant, and overgrown, sporting a collection of plants that came from all parts of Thedas. In the center of the garden, a great tree stood bursting with the reds and golds of autumn. Saliah remembered its canopy when they first saw Skyhold. She walked to it and bowed deeply, thanking the Maker for this blessing. She stood and laid her hands against the tree’s rich, brown bark. She looked around again, smiling and delighted.

“Much like Edwin’s work.” Cullen said quietly, remembering her brother’s gift. “So, this is the magic of Druids.” He mused, smiling at Saliah’s excited beam and bright eyes. He felt no ill ease here, only peace. It was the echo of an old feeling, as he recalled how Edwin’s magic registered differently with him. Cullen considered how a whole group of magic users could feel so unthreatening. He began to understand what Saliah meant when she would tell him that her people’s magic was different.

“My darling, I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Dorian said flatly, inspecting a nearby bush.

“A druid’s grove is a hallowed place of nature and peace, where all life and seasons are represented and protected by magic. Druids tend to them as though they were their children. They are quite alive and some even reach a sort of sentience.” Saliah explained, turning around from the tree. “Things grow here that shouldn’t be able to.” She motioned to the variety of overgrown plants and their states. “And this is proof that this place is protected.” Saliah motioned back to the tree, smiling and placing her hands back on its bark, as though she were hugging an old friend. “It’s likely part of the ward that protects all of Skyhold.”

“What is it?” Cassandra asked, walking gingerly towards Saliah, careful not to trample the delicate white Nevarran flowers around her. Cassandra was delighted to see a piece of her home represented here.  

“It’s a Sylvan.” Saliah said reverently as she looked up into its canopy. “A tree that is tasked with providing life and nourishment to the grove. It’s said that an aspect of the Maker is present in these trees.” She stepped back again and faced her companions.

“So, there were druids here.” Dorian said, studying the area with intent curiosity. “Fascinating…” he mumbled to himself.

Saliah shrugged. “It’s possible. They say that druids were some of the first humans to learn magic from the elves, so this might be elven. If it is the work of druids, it might be that they came here to help whoever originally built this place, or it was here before Skyhold was built. Who knows?”

“Are there other tribes?” Dorian asked absently and without looking up from a strange, black plant. “Other groups like yours?”

Saliah nodded her head, watching her magical friend at his study. “There is a group known as the Avvar, who are similar to us, but are not druids. There are a few others, in the Free Marches and further north. But, I’ve never known any of them. There also used to be a small tribe that hailed from the Korcari Wylds, in Ferelden. They were a mostly female tribe, as I understand it. No one has heard from them in a decade, though. It’s thought that they were wiped out in the last Blight.”

“It would make sense, since that is where the Fifth Blight originated.” Cassandra said in a thoughtful tone. As she walked through the garden, Cassandra had a look of calm that Saliah had rarely seen. “This place is so tranquil, Saliah. Are all groves like this?” Saliah was pleased to see that the garden was doing its work on her friend.

Saliah nodded her head and beamed in reply. “It’s a little overwhelming now, because there’s no druid to tend to it. Usually the tranquility is a little more tempered. Otherwise, we would all just fall asleep all the time.” Cassandra smirked, bending over a dawn lotus flower that floated in a little pool.

“And are these Korcari ladies all as lovely as you, with your graceful savagery and white hair?” Dorian asked as he looked up and threw a playful glance at Cullen. Cullen cleared his throat and chuckled, making to walk to the other side of the garden. Cassandra broke into open laughter at the comment.

Saliah laughed and feigned an annoyed look at Dorian. “No, the white hair is only in my tribe, as far as I know. Although, I seem to remember my Grandmother saying something about them having yellow eyes.” She shrugged, not sure if she really remembered.

Saliah noticed that Cullen had disappeared into an alcove at the far end of the garden. She went to follow, wondering where he had gone. As she came closer to the alcove, she heard him mumbling something in another room. She followed the sound, arriving in a small chapel dedicated to Andraste. The statue of the Maker’s Bride was old, but, like all other stone in Skyhold, seemed untouched by time or decay.

“…She shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction. The Light shall lead her safely. Through the paths of this world, and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water…” Cullen chanted from the base of the effigy. He looked over his shoulder as Saliah walked in.

“This is about the last thing I would think to find here.” Saliah said, casually putting her hand on his shoulder. “And yet, given everything else, how could she not be here.” She bowed deeply to Andraste’s image. She looked down to Cullen and smiled.

“This place in unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” Cullen said as he stood up. “This castle. How we came here. To have your tribe’s ways and the ways of our people represented here.” He continued, his voice deep in contemplation. “Can you really say you weren’t touched by the divine, Saliah?”

“All I’ve ever said is that I’m not sure what brought me here, Cullen. It’s not that I don’t…” Saliah replied softly, looking back out to the garden. “It’s that don’t think I’m supposed to know. I was taught not to question the Maker’s mysteries. Besides,” she chuckled, “I’m far from holy. I’m just…me.” She looked up at Cullen. They held each other’s glance for a beat, Cullen breaking it first to look back outside. Saliah made to reach for his face, but he moved awkwardly out towards the doorway.

“We should get back to the others.” He offered, a gentle smile on his lips. Saliah gathered her hand, pulling it back and tucking it against her clavicle. She nodded silently and took the path Cullen offered her, wondering if anything was going to happen between them, now that Haven was gone and everything had changed.

Coming back out, Saliah found Dorian and Cassandra sitting on an old stone bench, silently enjoying the atrium.

“We found a chapel dedicated to Andraste.” Cullen said as they approached.

“Are you serious?” Cassandra replied, eyes wide and looking to Saliah. “Maker, this place does make one wonder at its history.”

“This place is hallowed in many ways, and we will honor it fully and represent all beliefs.” Saliah said solemnly, walking over and studying the plants. _And I will see to this grove for Ed and my people—_ she promised silently, wondering whether she could convince her grandmother to come and help her. She resolved to write to her mother, asking for her guidance and help in getting in touch with her grandmother.

Her face was serene and peaceful as she, for the first time since Haven’s fall, felt completely in her element. In alcove across the atrium, Saliah spied the chapel to Andraste. “Skyhold will welcome anyone who comes in peace and support, regardless of the path they took.”

“Then we should get to work.” Cassandra replied as she stood up.

\--

And so it went, the rebuilding of Skyhold. As Solas had suspected when they first arrived, it seemed as though the fortress assisted them in its rebuilding. The wooden beams seemed lighter, the stonework dried more quickly, exhaustion was lessened. After a few weeks of work, and coupled with the daily arrivals of people who had heard of the Herald’s survival, the rebuild went very easily. The advisors saw to the logistics and infrastructure, while Saliah and her companions worked to rebuild. When the first carts of furniture and supplies arrived, the Inquisition rejoiced as though it were Saturnalia.

When Cassandra approached Saliah about becoming the Inquisitor, Saliah accepted with little convincing. Saliah wasn’t thrilled at the concept of yet another title; but she knew that this was a necessary step to ensuring that the dark future she saw would never occur. Standing above of her gathered followers at the keep’s landing, she proclaimed to all that she would not rest until Corypheus was defeated, and a new way was forged for the Chantry. She reassured them that all who wanted to contribute were welcome at Skyhold. The support and cheers that rose from the crowd, especially those that came from her forces, overwhelmed Saliah. She looked down to Cullen, who led them in their cheers. He looked to her and saluted, smiling.

Her first missives as Inquisitor were to send scouts to gather information on the whereabouts of Corypheus and Samson—an action that was heartily approved by the Commander. Gathered in the newly minted war room, the advisors and their new Inquisitor considered their next options.

“Inquisitor, remember that we do know what he intends to do next.” Leliana said, circling the table. “I think that we should also focus on uncovering the plot to assassinate Empress Celene.”

“She and her cousin are already at war with one another over the throne, providing just enough disarray for Corypheus to mount his move.” Cullen commented, looking at the map markers that showed the battles in Orlais.

“I agree with Sister Leliana. Imagine the chaos that would cause.” Josephine chimed in. “God or no, he would conquer southern Thedas.”

“And then the dark future comes to pass…” Saliah said quietly. “I agree, let’s do that.” Saliah continued, leaning over the massive oak table and looking at the battle map. She sighed, “I would feel better if we knew more about Corypheus and what he’s been at since Haven.” Saliah fidgeted at her branded hand, recalling her ordeal with the monster.

“I might be able to help with that, Inquisitor.” Varric said, announcing his arrival. The war council looked at him in surprised silence. Varric sighed, walking up to the table. “After you woke up, after Haven that is, I wrote to an old friend when I realized that we were probably dealing with the same Corypheus that she had. She’s fought him before, and can probably help. She’s only just arrived.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her sooner, Varric?” Saliah asked, surprised at her friend’s secrecy.

“Like I said, she’s only just arrived. And it’s, well, it’s pretty complicated. Come find me on the north battlements when you’re done here. I’ll explain everything.” Varric replied with a mixed look on his face as he walked away.

As the door shut, Cullen looked to Leliana. “Do you think it’s Maera?”

Leliana nodded. “If it is, Cassandra’s going to kill him.”

“Who is Maera?” Saliah asked, looking between the two of them.

“Maera Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.” Cullen replied, his voice distant. He looked at Saliah. “Before the Breach was created, we were seeking her out to convince her to become Inquisitor. Then you came along and, well… it worked out for the best.” He offered an awkward smile. “Cassandra questioned Varric as to her whereabouts. Up until now, we were all believed that Varric didn’t know. Assuming we’re right, that is.”

“Ah, I see.” Saliah said. “Well, if she knows something about the Elder One, then she can have whatever title she wants.” Saliah laughed. “I should go and meet this Champion. I’ve read and heard much about her!” Saliah nodded her head to the three of them and walked out to the battlements.

\--

As Saliah made her way, she considered Varric’s secrecy about the Champion of Kirkwall and Corypheus. Why hadn’t he told her? She didn’t like him keeping secrets from her, but knew that he likely had a good reason. As she neared her destination, she found herself relatively at peace with Varric not sharing the Champion’s whereabouts. She knew, at that moment, that Varric would keep her secrets and protect her if it ever came to it.

Coming to the north corner tower, she saw her dwarven friend standing with a tall, imposing woman. They had their backs to Saliah, quietly discussing something. The Champion caught Saliah out of the corner of her eye and spun around quickly, grabbing at her bastard sword. Saliah froze on the steps, studying the strange woman. Her fingers itched at the palm of her branded hand.  

“Andraste’s tits, Waffles, put that thing down.” Varric said in an exasperated tone. “Despite it being a great match, the two of you squaring off is the last thing I need.”

“Waffles?” Saliah squeaked, giggling. “You let him call you Waffles?” Saliah descended the stairs and walked to them.

“I think ‘let’ is an overly generous description of it.” The Champion replied in a surprisingly soft and high-pitched voice. “But, yes, that’s Varric’s pet name for me. I’m sorry,” she continued, loosening her grip on the sword, “you startled me.”

Maera Hawke was an intimidatingly handsome woman. She was tall and lean, with strong features and the scars of a broken nose. Her hair was pitch black, with eyes that were somewhere between amber and brown. She wore full plate armor and, like Saliah, moved in the way of a warrior.

“Inquisitor,” Varric said in an official tone, ignoring Maera’s and Saliah’s comments “meet Maera Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.”

“Though I don’t use that title much anymore.” Maera said wistfully, offering Saliah her hand.

“Well met.” Saliah replied, shaking the woman’s hand. “I am Lady Saliah Trevelyan. You may call me Saliah, if you wish, or Inquisitor, or Herald. Whatever suits you.” Saliah smiled. “I don’t have the luxury of shaking my titles just yet.” She winked. Maera chuckled.

“And what is your Varric title?” Maera asked, eyes twinkling.

Varric sighed. “Beautiful. I call her Beautiful.”

Maera made a surprised look and smiled. “Well, he must like you. Only the really sassy ones get the good nicknames.” Saliah and Maera laughed.

Saliah felt as at ease with this person as she had with Varric, when they first met. It was easy to see why they were such good friends.

“Now that we’re all acquainted…” Varric continued, with a mildly vexed tone in his voice. “Maera, I thought you could give Saliah here some advice on Corypheus. You and I did fight him, after all.”

“Wait, you fought Corypheus before, Varric? And didn’t tell me?” Saliah shot at Varric. Her eyes flashed at his, which held a look of remorse she could almost touch.

“He didn’t because he couldn’t, not without giving up my whereabouts, Inquisitor.” Maera cut in. “And I asked him not to tell anyone where I went after the uprising.”

Saliah took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll accept that.” She could see Varric relax. “Still, I would like to hear what you did.”

“You’ve already dropped half a mountain on the bastard.” Maera said with a smirk. “I’m sure anything I tell you pales in comparison.”

“Humor me.” Saliah said as she leaned on the battlement wall, crossing her arms. “You’ve fought him before.”

“Fought _and killed_.” Maera corrected.

“Are we sure we’re talking about the same Corypheus? The creature I fought was quite alive.” Saliah asked, looking between the Champion and Varric.

“Based on the description you gave Varric, he’s one and the same.” Maera said bitterly. “The Grey Wardens had him imprisoned. They used my father’s blood in a ritual to seal him inside. He somehow manipulated them through his darkspawn influence, and set them on my companions and me. He wanted my blood to break the seals.”

“Corypheus got into the Wardens’ heads.  Messed with their minds.  Turned them against each other and against us.” Varric chimed in.

“Sounds delightful.” Saliah said sarcastically. Varric and Maera chuckled.

“He broke free and we destroyed him.” Maera said, looking out to the mountains. “And I don’t mean I think we killed him. When the fight was over, he was dead. My blade was pinning his head to the floor.”

“Maybe his tie to the Blight somehow brought him back, or maybe it’s because he was the first Blight.” Varric said, walking closer Saliah. “Either could be true, given that we know who he is, now. But he was dead, Beautiful. I swear to you that we left him dead.”

Saliah looked at the two of them for a long beat, considering their story. While the thought of Corypheus being impervious to death scared Saliah nearly witless, she didn’t allow that fear to cloud her judgment. “If Corypheus influenced the Wardens before… this could explain why they’ve disappeared again,” Saliah mused. “Maker’s Breath…” she breathed, thinking of the implications. “The Templars _and_ the Wardens.” She and Varric shared a worried look.

"The Wardens have disappeared?" Hawke asked quickly. "Then yes, they could have fallen under his control again."

“Great.” Saliah said dryly. “Well, at least that would explain their absence. If he’s controlling them again, could we free them?”

“Possibly,” Maera replied, “but we need to know more first. I have a friend in the Wardens, his name is Stroud.” she offered. “He was investigating something unrelated for me, but I could have him look into this. He was worried about corruption in the ranks when last we spoke.”

“I think Corypheus playing Bard with the Wardens’ minds counts as corruption, Waffles.” Varric said, chucking humorlessly. “Do you think he’s fallen?”

“No, he’s actually in hiding. He told me he would be near Crestwood, in an old smuggler’s cave. I was actually on my way there when you contacted me.”

“What was he investigating for you, Maera?” Saliah asked.

“In Kirkwall, the Templars were using a strange form of Lyrium. It was red. He was looking into it for me.” Maera said plainly. Saliah was relieved that Hawke wasn’t obfuscating her work.

“What strange luck.” Saliah replied. “We’ve encountered it as well. Corypheus has lured and corrupted most of the Templar Order with the stuff. If you like, we will share what intelligence we have with you.”

“That would be very helpful, Inquisitor. Thank you.” Maera responded. “Actually, I imagine I should go share my story with your Sister Nightingale.”

“Yes, that would be very helpful. I would like to meet this friend of yours, but we are still days out from being ready for travel.” Saliah said, barely recognizing the official tone in her voice. “You are welcome to stay here as our guest until we leave.”

“Thank you, Lady Inquisitor, I will take you up on that.” Maera bowed her head. “However, I will likely leave in the morning and meet you there. I will be in regular contact.”

Saliah nodded her head to take her leave of the two. Varric thanked her for her understanding and led Maera down to the newly established tavern. Saliah warned Varric of Cassandra’s wrath, causing the trio to laugh as they waved their goodbyes.

\--

As she made her way back across the battlements, Saliah saw Cullen walking across the small causeway that connected the Keep to his office. She knew she should share this information with him, so she decided to make her way there. As she neared his location, her heart fluttered and pounded. Since their arrival at Skyhold, Cullen had been notably distant and official, not allowing them any time alone. She wondered if he would take time to discuss this with her. She hoped so, as she truly needed to share the information and her fears with someone she trusted to let her be Saliah, and not the Inquisitor.

Seeing the door open, Saliah walked into Cullen’s office without knocking. He was sitting at his very neat desk, looking through a very large document. His runner, Selven, was standing at attention across from him.

“Selven, please go see Sister Leliana and get me that report as soon as possible. I want to see it right away.” Cullen said, without looking up.

“Yes, Ser.” Selven replied. Turning to leave, he saw Saliah entering. He stopped to salute her. “Good morning, Inquisitor. I hope you are well, your Worship.”

“Good morning, Selven, and yes I am. Thank you.” Saliah said pleasantly, seeing Cullen look up from his work. The boy stood at attention, without moving. Realizing that he sought dismissal, Saliah quickly said, “As you were, young man,” and motioned to him. The boy left, smiling from ear to ear at his encounter with his leader.

“Inquisitor,” Cullen said, standing up. “How can I help you?”

“Please, sit, Cull--Commander.” Saliah stammered, unsure how to speak to him since her promotion. “What report is Selven getting for you?” Saliah asked absently, looking around for a chair. She smiled to herself at the lack of one. _This man…_ she thought, remembering their reconciliation.

“The latest intelligence reports on the war in Orlais.” Cullen replied, stepping around from his desk. He came to the other side and leaned against it, facing Saliah. He smiled as he watched her seek out a place to sit. “My chairs have not been delivered as of yet.”

“I see that.” Saliah chuckled over her shoulder. She turned and faced him, seeing him relaxed and familiar with her. She could feel her face flushing. “I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t really realize there was all-out war in Orlais. I knew of the unrest, but this…” She continued, trying to change the subject from chairs.

“You weren’t Inquisitor when the war broke out, so you didn’t really need to know. We decided not to give you details, in hopes of keeping you focused on the Breach and…well, everything else.” Cullen said as his forehead wrinkled in concern for her reaction.

“Yes, well, I certainly had a full plate.” Saliah chuckled. “I suppose it only becomes more full now.” She smile fell at the concept of it.

Cullen studied her for a moment, knowing her worried face. “How did it go with Varric? Was it the Champion?”

“Yes, you were right. And, well,” Saliah sighed. “Do you have time to take a walk with me, on the battlements? I need to tell you about this, but I feel the need to stretch my legs.” Saliah pulled her hair over her shoulder and fidgeted with it. “The news isn’t good.”

“Now?” Cullen asked, looking back at his papers. He considered her request, and decided it was more important than the latest set of complaints regarding Sera’s behavior. “Yes. It would my pleasure, my lady.”

The pair walked for a while, pacing slowly across Skyhold’s massive upper walls. Saliah shared her story and her concerns. Cullen listened intently, considering the implications of Maera’s and Varric’s confessions.

“If he has control of the Wardens and the Templars.” Cullen mused, his brow furrowed. The pair stopped and looked out over the mountain range. “Maker…”

“My thoughts exactly. That’s why I’m going to Crestwood to see this Stroud person.” Saliah replied. “Truthfully, though, I’m not sure I’m ready to leave just yet.”

“My lady?” Cullen replied, surprised. He turned to face her.

Saliah sighed, turning as well. “When I go out back out there, it means that Haven really happened. That Corypheus is real. That I’m…” Saliah paused. “That I’m really the Inquisitor and all of this rides on me.” She looked away. “Not that I didn’t know before…”

“It’s that the mantle feels all the heavier.” Cullen finished her thought. “I understand, Saliah.” His voice took a gentle timber, making Saliah’s stomach flip flop.

Saliah took a deep breath and smiled. “I knew you would.” She looked back at him.

“And know that you have the full support of myself and your advisors to help you.” Cullen’s voice bounced back to that official tone as he pounded his fist to his chest in salute, making Saliah frown and grit her teeth.

“Why do you do that?” Saliah blurted out before she could stop herself.

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked.

“Since we arrived to Skyhold, Cullen, you’ve been a thousand leagues away from me.” Saliah said quietly. “Your tone has been more distant and official than ever.” She looked at him. He met her gaze in silence. “I thought we…had—” Saliah stammered, realizing there was no turning back. “I…can’t stop thinking about you, Cullen.” Saliah admitted, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel her ears burning. “I’ve… I’ve cared about you for quite a long time.” Saliah looked away, fidgeting with her hair.

“As have I.” Cullen said quietly, his voice shy. He stepped forward slowly, making to continue their walk. “To be honest, I’ve long wondered what I would say to you about this, if it ever came up.”

“What stopped you?” Saliah asked, following his slow pace.

Cullen stopped and turned to her, smiling. “Well, there was the business of the Breach, your brother, the mages, the Templars, and you pulling a mountain down on yourself. If you remember, I didn’t really get to offer my thoughts on your actions at the Chantry.” He chuckled, stepping closer to her in sudden boldness.

“That is quite the list of good reasons, Commander.” Saliah replied, wide eyed at his change in direction.

“Besides, you’re the Inquisitor.”

“You don’t say?” Saliah retorted playfully with a cocked eyebrow, enjoying his encroachment.

Cullen chuckled, continuing his advance. “And we’re at war. I honestly didn’t think it was possible, once we came here. I was being distant to give you space, if you needed it.”

“And yet here I am.” Saliah replied, locking her eyes on him as she stepped back and leaned on the battlement wall. Her heart beat wildly and her belly was aflame in her desire for him. He stepped to her, getting so close she could smell him.

“So you are.” Cullen reached for her waist with shaking hands. “It seems impossible to ask…” He whispered, leaning in and closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to.” Saliah whispered back, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes, eager to kiss him again.

“Commander!” A voice, paired with hurried footsteps, said suddenly. Cullen tensed and began to move back.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Saliah said under her breath, feeling Cullen pull away from her. She turned, seeing Selven approaching. His head was down over a tablet. Saliah put her arm on the battlement wall, propping her chin on her hand. Knowing the boy meant no intrusion, Saliah couldn’t help but giggle at his poorest of timing.

“ _WHAT.”_ Cullen growled, stepping towards the boy menacingly. Saliah wondered if Cullen was going to smack him.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s reports.” Selven replied, looking up. “You wanted them...” He looked at his Commander’s stormy face in confusion, “right away.” Selven looked over the Commander’s shoulder to see Inquisitor smiling at him, with her head propped up on her hand. She wiggled her fingers at him in greeting. He looked back to his Commander, and then back to the Inquisitor, seeing that their cheeks were flushed. He immediately remembered the Inquisitor’s actions back in Haven. “Oh.”

“Oh.” Cullen growled in reply, narrowing his eyes and closing in on the boy.

“I’ll just, uh, deliver these to your office, Ser.” Selven said, backing away slowly. “Right, then.” He cleared his throat. “To your office.” The boy turned on his heel and ran away, disappearing down the battlements and into Cullen’s office.

Saliah sighed and giggled, as she straightened her stance. “Cullen, if you need to get back—”

“No.” Cullen growled, turning around. In a single motion, Cullen stepped back to her and grabbed her by the waist and the neck, pulling her in and kissing her. Despite the roughness of his actions, his kiss was tender and urgent. After the surprise, Saliah melted into him, aroused by his sudden assertiveness. Her heart pounded as she sucked her breath in through her nose, getting lost all over again in the intensity of his effect on her. She curled her arms up through the space between them, lacing them around his neck, and pulled herself up to his level, opening her mouth to kiss him more deeply. He pulled her in more, seemingly starving for her lips. Suddenly, he pulled back.

“I’m sorry.” He said, suddenly shy. “That was,” he kissed her nose, “really nice.”

“Then why did you stop?” Saliah asked thickly, nipping at his bottom lip.

He chuckled. “Forget I did, then.” He pulled her in again, nipping her lip in response and kissing her.

Saliah felt a heat deep from within her start to rise deliciously. She pulled herself to him more, feeling him respond to her need. He moved his hand down, meeting the other one in the small of her back, adjusting his lips and mouth to explore hers more deeply. Saliah pressed herself against the battlement wall, pulling him back to her. He stumbled slightly, his weight falling against her. She reflexively pushed her hips into his, feeling and hearing him moan into her mouth as he gripped the top of her rear. The weight of him; his strength matching hers; his lips and tongue incessantly swiping and tangling with hers, all of it made Saliah’s head swim and her heart thunder. She could feel her primal instincts threaten to take over.

“Wait.” Saliah breathed, pulling her head back. She looked up at him, panting slightly. “Maker, Cullen,” she took a deep breath, “I have to slow down before I tear your armor off.” She giggled.

He snickered, kissing her forehead. “Yes, I think public nudity might be frowned upon.” He looked down to her and adjusted his grip, pulling her against him and hugging her tightly. He half-laughed into her hair. “We did that.” He said quietly, as though to himself.

“Yes, and it’s about time we did.” Saliah said, happily laying her hot cheek against his cooler breastplate. She smiled at hearing Cullen’s chest rumble as he laughed. Just as she snuggled in more, an idea popped into her head. She looked up at him, pulling away slightly. “Dine with me tonight.”

“I dine with you every night, Saliah, along with everyone else in your Company.” Cullen replied, looking down to her with a perplexed look on his face.

“No, I mean privately.” Saliah said. “In my quarters. I can have Ana bring up food for us.”

Cullen looked at her dumbstruck. “I…Saliah, is—I, uh…”

“It would give us some time to sort this all out, alone.” Saliah replied and giggled at his gibberish. “I’m sure there’s things we have to consider.” Saliah smiled, seeing and feeling him instantly relax. She enjoyed being close enough to feel that, more than she could have imagined. “That and it will just give us time to just be alone with one another.” She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. “Please say yes.”

He kissed her back and then pressed his forehead to hers. “Alright, then. Yes.”

Saliah squeaked in girlish delight, hugging and kissing him again. “Thank you!”

Cullen laughed through her kisses, surprised that she could go from confident woman to excited girl in a heartbeat. He suspected that there was much more of that than he ever thought previously. Despite his bliss, the mountain of paperwork awaiting him, as well as Leliana’s reports, back in his office nipped at his mind. He looked down to her bright eyes, hating that he would have to leave her for a while. “For now though, my dear,” he kissed the tattoo under her right eye, “we have matters that need attending.”

Saliah frowned as they released each other, their hands still joined. “You’re right; I should probably go and make sure Cassandra doesn’t kill Varric.”

Cullen chuckled, seeing that they were going in opposite directions. He held her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “Until later, then; if not tonight, my lady.” He gently released her hand and turned to leave.

“Cullen,” Saliah said, making him turn around, “I think we’re beyond the point of you calling me that. Don’t you?”

“Why?” Cullen replied with a smirk. “It’s what you are.”

“I’m sorry?” Saliah replied, confused.

Cullen laughed nervously and blushed. “It’s shorthand, for my name for you.”

Saliah looked at him and crossed her arms. “And what name is that?”

“My heart’s lady.” Cullen mumbled sheepishly, stepping closer to her.

Saliah was struck silent and smiling by the sweetness of Cullen’s name for her, realizing how long he had been calling her that. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’re too sweet, Cullen. I’m touched.”

He smiled and kissed her lightly. “I’ll see you tonight, Saliah.” He turned and left.

Saliah leaned on the battlement wall and watched him leave. She had no idea how she was going to keep herself busy until that evening, or how she was going to focus on anything. Remembering Varric’s safety, Saliah turned and made her way towards the tavern.

Every step felt like she was walking on air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the absence, folks! Work and life got really insane for a minute there. I have to admit, I missed my white-haired friend. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There was a lot going on for me, in the establishment of Skyhold and Saliah's connection with it. I really wanted to take advantage of the garden and the fortress to tie in my anchors for Saliah and who she is going to be as the Inquisitor. 
> 
> Also-- OHTHANKGODTHEYFINALLYKISSEDLIKEFORREALZ. I had no idea it was going to take me 15 chapters to get them here. But, well worth the wait. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we were all thinking what Saliah thought, when Selven butted in. ;) 
> 
> See you next week for a little brown chicken, brown cow? ;D
> 
> ***Bookmarks, kudos, and comments continue to surprise, delight, and inspire me. If you like what you're reading, please let me know! Feedback is also great, as it helps me be a stronger writer. Thank you all for your continued <3\. Y'all are the bestest!!!***

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the soundtrack for this story here: 
> 
> On YouTube http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLr5aTMLz2F7nnvYp8DVPAAMBORqBSghex
> 
> On Spotify: http://open.spotify.com/user/1212994711/playlist/4mArA2MOeO1E5Ts0uRlu2w
> 
> There are lyrics to every one of these songs that speaks to either the whole of a given chapter, or parts of it. 
> 
> Hope you read and listen!


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